Under my Skin
by Polly
Summary: Mid Season 6. Unbeknown to Leo and Piper, a demon attack leaves Chris acting strangely unlike himself, a deadly threat is hovering over him and his family has only 24 hours to save him...CHAPTER 8 NOW UP!
1. Chapter 1

**Under my Skin**

A/N: This is set after Leo and Chris have a better relationship with each other. I've not seen all the episodes of Season 6 yet so I may not be consistent with all the events in the series. As far as that is concerned, then, this might turn out to be slightly AU. In fact, it is, because for this story's purposes, I'm making Chris a little younger – just turned 20, instead of 22. As far as I can see, it shouldn't make too much of a difference and I've seen it done in other stories here:-) Thanks to anyone reading this WIP! I really hope you enjoy it. I will try to update as quickly as I can but I'm a painfully slow author!

Leo flipped through the pages of the manual, propped up on the kitchen table by the salt and pepper shakers. Beside him, spread out among the mixing bowls and cook books, were an assortment of spanners, screwdrivers and the odd hammer. His brow creased in concentration as he scanned the diagrams and help-sheets in front of him. The Elder let out a frustrated sigh, biting down a less…pleasant response.

"Pheobe?" he called out, still staring at the pages in front of him. "Tell me again what EXACTLY you did to the dishwasher to make it start spitting suds everywhere?"

"Nothing, I swear!" She squealed, poking her head into the kitchen. "I put dishes in, I filled up soap, I closed door. Everything normal! It's not my fault it started doing a Linda Blair on us! Hey!" she exclaimed, suddenly, her eyes momentarily lighting up. "Do you think it could be possessed or something? I mean, there was that terrible groaning sound that accompanied the great spewing of soap suds. And I mean, a demonic possession – wouldn't be new in this house, right? And certainly couldn't be MY fault, right!"

She began to laugh, nervously and shot her ex-brother-in-law a look somewhere between desperation and destitution. Leo's dubious look was the only answer she needed. The smile faltered and quickly merged into a grimace. "Piper's gonna kill me!" she wailed, miserably.

Reining in a smile at the young witch's expense, Leo wiped his hands on his work jeans and crossed the room to lay a comforting hand on Pheobe's shoulder.

"Piper will understand, Pheebs – don't worry about it."

Pheobe's eyebrows shot up underneath her dark bangs. "Oh right!" she drawled, sarcastically. "Cos what with the hormones, and the demon vanquishing and the morning sickness and with the hormones again…Piper's just a little snuggle-bunny at the moment! Getting vibes off of her lately is a like a cheerful little 'pick-me-up' every morning."

Leo let out a low chuckle.

"It's not funny, Leo!" she shot back, indignantly, slapping him lightly on the arm. "This is MY funeral we're talking about here when she sees her precious kitchen like this."

"Are you STILL freaking out about that dishwasher?" Paige sauntered into the kitchen, pushing a strand of her shoulder length red hair behind her ear as she opened the fridge door.

Pheobe placed her hands on her hips and shot her sister a look which clearly read: 'well what do YOU think?' Pulling out a carton of juice from the fridge, Paige swung the door shut with her foot.

"Honey, she won't be back for hours yet and in the mean time, I'm sure Leo will find a way to fix it," Paige assured her sister, with as much conviction as she could muster.

"Couldn't you just, you know, heal it, Leo?" Pheobe begged, batting her eyelids at her ex-whitelighter.

Leo glanced at her, reprovingly. "That isn't exactly what my powers were intended for, Pheobe."

"You healed the P3 sign!"

For a moment, Leo's mouth opened and closed as he struggled for a suitable excuse. "That was…well, symbolic!" he protested, with as much conviction as he could muster. "Besides, with a new baby on the way, Piper is extra sensitive to excess magic in the house, these days."

"Is she extra sensitive to having a hissy fit?" the brunette shot back.

Before Leo could get out an answer, however, Chris ambled past them, his nose stuck in a note book he was currently scribbling in. "Who's having a hissy fit?" he asked, casually, and only half aware of what the answer might be.

"Three guesses!" Paige joked, taking a sip of her drink and leaning against the counter, next to Leo.

Chris' eyes flickered up from his note book and, in a fraction of a second, had swept the scene before him, taken in the dishwasher currently coughing up bubbles, the pool of water surrounding it and the devastated look on his elder aunt's face and had resumed their original position of scanning his notebook.

"Oh," he said, by way of answer. "Piper the Viper. Good luck." He casually inclined his head towards his aunt.

Beside Leo, Paige chuckled, a grin spreading over her pale face. "He,he! The Viper! I get it…that's good."

"Hmm," her nephew agreed, mildly, now crossing something out in his book. "And I think you'll find, very apt for this kind of situation, Aunt Pheebs."

"Chris!" Leo couldn't keep the scold out of his voice. Chris glanced up from his book, green eyes meeting Leo's matching ones for just a moment.

"What?" he asked, guilelessly.

His father gave him a pointed, reproachful look. "Don't call your mother a viper, Chris. She may be a little…testy at the moment, but she's pregnant and stressed and I think we can all afford to cut her some slack, here."

Chris raised his eyebrow in the way that only he and his mother could do. "Whatever you say, Dad."

"Ooh! I'm late – gotta go!" Pheobe cried, glancing quickly at her watch before grabbing her purse from the counter. As she power-walked over to the front door, Leo and Paige followed in her wake.

"What are you late for?" Paige wondered. "It's the middle of the afternoon and you're not at work today." Pheobe tugged on her jacket and straightened her hair in the mirror.

"I have a radio interview to record and Elsie will execute me slowly if I'm late. Be back in an hour…or so. And thanks again, Leo! You're a star!"

"But, Pheobe! I don't even know if I can.." he started to protest.

"Thanks! I'll see you guys later!"

And with that, the front door slammed, leaving an amused Paige and a slightly disgruntled Leo, staring after her. "Good luck!" Paige beamed, patting him on the chest. "I'm going to take a bath. Try not to cut off the hot water when you go messing around with the pipes back there." With one last, dazzling smile, she trotted upstairs.

Again, Leo bit back an unsuitable remark, turned and headed into the kitchen. There he saw his son, leaning against the counter, flipping through the pages of the manual. Leo's hopes, soared.

"Care to give me a hand with this, son?" he asked. "A little, father-son, working with our hands, fixing machinery time?" Chris smirked at him, most irritatingly.

"I don't do machinery, Leo. You're the handy-man, remember? You're going to have to figure this one out on your own, I'm afraid." Leo scowled, slightly, walked up to him and snatched the book away, resolutely turning it back to the correct page.

"So where have you been, then?" he enquired, still slightly peeved at being designated as the hired help. He was steadfastly ignoring the smart-aleck grin Chris was giving him.

"Out. Demons. You know the story."

Leo put down the book and turned to face his son. "You're vanquishing demons alone, AGAIN? We've talked about this, Chris – you, your mother and me. I thought we had an understanding?" Chris folded his arms across his chest and levelled an indignant gaze at his father.

"An understanding?" he asked, incredulously. "Was that the 'understanding' – and I use the term loosely, you realise – where I _understand_ that I don't get to do shit on my own any more, without the Charmed Ones there to protect me, while you and mom get to understand…what, exactly? Help me out here, cos I'm having a hard time remembering what you guys compromised on!"

Leo's stare could have cut diamonds. Despite his best intentions, Chris couldn't help but falter a little. "I said it was an UNDERSTANDING, Chris. I never called it a compromise." Unnerved at his father's unnaturally steely composure, Chris opted for the better part of valour. He offered an indifferent shrug and crossed the kitchen to the fridge, putting a discreet amount of distance between him and his father.

"Whatever."

Leo knew it was the best sign of acquiescence that he was likely to get from his stubborn son. Chris opened the fridge door and, for want of a distraction from Leo, began rummaging through the various left-overs. Nothing took his fancy. Spotting a can of Red Bull, he snagged it from the fridge door before closing it with a bang. Leo was now on his hands and knees in front of the sorry remains of the dishwasher, shining a torch light into the circuitry. He didn't glance up from his work but when he heard the fridge door close, he automatically remarked: "Don't spoil your appetite. Dinner's in little over an hour."

"Not hungry," came the boy's distant reply. Leo glanced up and frowned at the can in his hand.

"You need food, Chris – not pure energy. That stuff's no good for you. You're going to sit down tonight and have a decent meal." His voice was firm, as he tried to convey to his son that there would be no room for negotiation on this matter. Chris popped open the can and took a swig. Leo could have almost sworn he heard the rebelliousness fizzing up through the amber liquid. 'He's just trying to test you, Leo', a calming voice sounded in his head. 'Don't rise to it.' He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that his son was now drinking what Leo was convinced, became Chris' only source of energy on some days.

"I said I'm NOT hungry! And anyway, since when did you…?" Chris cut himself off, mid-rant as his eyes suddenly fell upon a handwritten note, pinned to the fridge door by one of Wyatt's alphabet magnets. It was written in his mother's handwriting and as Chris glanced at it in more detail, his eyes widened.

"Is this a list?" he demanded. Leo stood up and took in what his son had found. Inwardly, he groaned. What a place to have left the damned thing! The boy was never meant to have seen it. "What IS this?" Chris, asked again, snatching the note from the door and scanning through it for the main gist of the words:

"…eat three meals a day…must be sitting down…at least two must be hot…" Leo closed his eyes as if feeling some far off pain while Chris continued, his voice rising in volume and pitch as his incredulity and indignation rose with every item on the dreaded list.

"…must not over-work…reasonable amount of sleep!" His eyes shot up and he fixed his father with a piercing glare. "This is about me, isn't it? Mom actually wrote you a LIST of what I have to do while she's away? I don't believe you guys! And she's only out for one god damned day!"

"It's more for me, you know, Chris?" Leo tried, helplessly. "Your mother knows I'm not really good at this sort of thing…" he trailed off, wishing that it wouldn't be against every white-lighter rule right now to use a sprinkling of memory dust on his affronted son.

"At what sort of thing! Being a parental control freak!"

"Hey!" Leo protested, sharply. "Watch the tone, mister. Every item on that list is just pure common sense about how to take care of yourself."

He watched as Chris' eyes glowered but the young man remained silent, watching his father with an expression close to a sulk. Encouraged by this, Leo pressed on. "The only regrettable thing about this whole instance is that you apparently need someone else to point these very simple facts out to you! And guess what, buddy? AS your parents? That's pretty much what we're here for: so start getting used to it!"

Leo held his breath and waited. The tornado never came. Chris' sea-green eyes glinted once more before finally looking away from his father's firm gaze and finding a fascinating spot on the kitchen table to scrutinise. Nothing was said either for or against THE LIST and that was the most that Leo could ever hope to get from the situation.

The Elder breathed a discreet sigh of relief: thank god for the moral high ground, he thought to himself.

That's it for now! Things will start hotting up VERY soon, I promise! Chapter 2 is on the way and you'll see where the plot is heading to. If you've read this far without clicking the 'Back' button in utter disgust, then thank-you very much and I hope to see you in Chapter 2! Polly xxx


	2. Chapter 2

Under my Skin – Chapter 2 Forgot the disclaimer in Part 1 so I shall say it here, lest the powers that be try to sue me: I don't own them – any of them…except Lokus, of course and I can't really think that anyone would want to bother with him, anyway :) 

Anyway, here is part 2 – hope you guys enjoy and thanks for the reviews!

An hour later and the door to a very steamy bathroom opened as Paige emerged, wrapped in her robe and towelling off the excess water from her hair. The grimes of demon-hunting were finally beginning to be cleansed from her pores, she thought, with a relaxed smile – a relaxed smile which lasted all of fifteen seconds. Out of no-where, a figure rushed past her in the hallway, practically knocking her back into the bathroom in its haste to get through.

"Chris!" she scolded, holding a hand to her heart for added emphasis. "Slow down – you just about gave me a heart-attack!" In an almost cartoonish way, Chris' heals all but screeched to a halt a little way down the hallway. With an apology written on his face, he turned and ambled back to where his aunt was leaning against the bathroom doorway, the vestiges of annoyance still clouding her features. 

Chris dipped his head slightly and, unconsciously, shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "Sorry," he muttered, quietly yet sincerely. "I didn't see you there." Off her doubting look, he amended slightly, "Well, I did but I couldn't really stop in time. Sorry, Paige." 

Paige's attempts at annoyance, melted at almost the exact same time as her nephew's soulful eyes looked up into her's. "Nah!" she waved it off, with one hand. "Just try to slow it down, in future, OK? We don't run in this house unless something evil is chasing us, remember?" 

"Tell that to Wyatt and me in a few years," Chris grinned. Paige could only wince at the mental image. 

"I shall happily leave that to your parents to deal with," she announced, firmly but Chris detected the tell-tale twinkle in her eye. Would this be the time to tell her that SHE was the one they were usually chasing? 

"So where were you off to prior to the hit and run, then?" she asked.

"The kitchen, to check out some of the vanquishing potions we have in store. You see I'm trying to build up our supplies, get ahead of ourselves. We need to be more organised, Paige. I have a whole list of possible demons…"

"Please don't remind us," Paige muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. Chris continued, regardless however.

"And it makes no sense to just sit about waiting to find one before we make up everything we'll need to dispatch it, so I thought…"

At this, Paige held up one hand, in front of the young man's animated face. "Chris!" she said, firmly, desperate to avoid an impromptu lecture on the importance of round-the-clock demon slayage. He stopped, mouth open for a second longer, before he snapped it shut and gave her a slightly embarrassed look, mixed with a touch of annoyance at having his rant interrupted. 

Paige continued in a softer tone. "That sounds great, Honey but this is family down time, right now. Let's get in to this tomorrow, ok?" Chris sighed, reluctantly but nodded his head. He was beginning to learn that persistence did not always win them over in matters like this. 

"Well," he shrugged, "I'm still going to keep working on it today. Less for you guys to do tomorrow, that way!" She smiled at him.

"Just don't over-do it," his aunt warned, lightly. He was already heading back upstairs to the attic, even as she spoke.

"Yeah! Uh-huh. Will do." And with that reassurance echoing around the hallway, Chris disappeared into the attic and the door resolutely clicked shut.

The damned birds were back, circling ever nearer, arcing gracefully in a downwards spiral towards the lone occupant of the rocky cavern. Lokus looked up. That far down in the Underworld, light sources were a scarcity, but the faint glow from distant fires spread downwards, illuminating the scene before him. For a moment, his sharp eyes took in the now familiar sight of their talons, their wing-span (each as large as a grown man) and their sleek, curved beaks. They would continue to circle: that's all they ever did. Lokus knew for a fact, they hadn't been told to close in for the kill yet and with him, they wouldn't be. 'Sorry fellas', he thought to himself, grinning in spite of his dilemma, 'these nice witches got other plans for me.' 

"Demon Lokus", a collective voice, neither male, nor female echoed around him. Hastily, Lokus pushed himself up from the ground and stared into the black abyss above and surrounding him. There were no faces, no discernable forms of any kind, yet Lokus knew exactly who was watching him, judging him, passing sentence over his life. He'd known for over a hundred years. For over a hundred years he had taken their children from their beds in the dead of night. He had delighted in sampling their women. He had drunk the blood of their men and warriors for nights, upon nights, upon nights. And Lokus had revelled in every, blissful moment. 

Other families, over the years, had of course fallen victim to Lokus' lusts, his needs. But none of them ever tasted as sweet as those of the Rockwell coven. There was something about the death of a Rockwell-witch that was…intoxicating. 

Of course, the downside to this slide of ecstasy (and there was bound to be one) was that that you didn't mess with a century's worth of witches without incurring some serious blood vengeance on your demon name. That was the particular charm of witches: even when you'd gone to great pains to kill every last one of the buggers, they could still summon the Hounds of Vengeance to track you through this life and the next, until your penance had been paid. 

"Demon Lokus", the voices repeated. 

"Yeah, I heard you the first time. Can we make this quick? I have places to be and I don't appreciate being summoned here against my will." Even in the face of certain death, there was no reason to play nice. He had avoided retribution for over a hundred years, and now that his time seemed finally to be up, Lokus was more determined than ever to find a way out.

"You have been sentenced and found guilty. No longer shall you hide. The Hounds of Vengeance have been unleashed in heaven, hell and on the earth. In Life and in Death. You shall know no peace. The Bloodhounds shall not rest until you have atoned for your sins or until they have ripped you, body and soul. 

In this place and in this time,  
You shall atone for want and crime,  
Before this day has come again,  
The Hounds of Vengeance make amends."

'Like Hell, I will!' he thought, as with a tornado-like wind, he broke the chains of the Underworld and rose up to the bright lights of a summer's evening. "The old dog's still got a few tricks to keep you on your toes, hasn't he?" Lokus muttered as he swiped his straggly blonde hair out of his face and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his worn, blue levis. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of mortals, and gasoline and of sun-baked pavements. All around him, oblivious to his sudden entry, humans went about their trivial, daily lives: chatting, arguing, shopping and whatever else filled one minute to the next. 

A grin spread across the deceptively handsome demon's face. Oh no. He wasn't ready to go under yet. Who did they think they were kidding? Twenty-four hours? As the saying went, a lot can happen in twenty-four hours: especially, if you can get hold of just a little power- a little more than his relatively weak demon body currently possessed.

Lokus glanced around him at the street signs. Where had he emerged? Judging from the accents of the mortals around him, he knew it was America. An empty phone booth stood nearby on a street corner, a tattered directory dumped on top of the phone. Lokus snatched up the worn book and glanced at the front cover. San Francisco. Now, where to find power in San Francisco? Lokus set off down the street at a leisurely stroll, humming a tuneless tune to himself.

In the attic of the Halliwell manor, a young man sat, legs curled under him on the couch and the Book of Shadows on his lap. With an adept finger, the raven-haired boy leafed through the pages with one hand, whilst absently sipping at a mug of lukewarm coffee with the other. He had been like that for over two hours but Chris was sorry to say that he was no closer to finding the next demon on his to-do list, than he was when he had begun. With an audible 'pop', Chris rotated his stiff neck around, wincing as he felt the weight of the day, straining at his muscles. 

"Chris?"

He glanced up from the book and his eyes automatically shot to his watch. "Oh, crap," he muttered to himself, steadfastly ignoring the call and casting his gaze back down to the page. He knew what his Aunt Paige wanted and it certainly wasn't worth wasting his precious reading time over. Funnelling his determination, Chris Halliwell continued to study the book, eventually placing the coffee cup down on the floor. It had gradually turned from lukewarm to icy cold, in the space of only a few pages. Oblivious to the world around him, time pressed on.

"Chris?" His father's voice this time and a little louder than Paige's had been. The young witch-whitelighter glanced up, irritably. Didn't they realise baby Wyatt's demon attacker wasn't finding himself? Chris sighed, somewhat more loudly than necessary. The last thing he wanted was a frustrated Leo on his case. He was going to have to answer the man soon.

"Chris! Will you come downstairs? Your dinner's going stone cold!" Their resident Elder was obviously not a happy camper tonight, judging from the hardening tone of his voice. Chris now knew the reason why, though: with Piper out of the house for the day with Wyatt, Leo felt doubly responsible for making sure their wayward son was fed to bursting in her absence. Still, that was the wonderful thing about microwaves: it meant you could always get in a couple more pages.

He flicked over to the next entry, scanning it for…well, he was actually beginning to lose track of his original search criteria. His brain was going foggy. Damn. Maybe he really did need some food? But, thinking back, Chris was almost positive he had eaten breakfast…almost. And no-body worries about lunch when they're in the middle of slaying a demon…and no-one can really stomach anything after said slaying, given the disgusting entrails splattered over their hair and clothing. 

The illustration of the winged serpent he was currently looking at, seemed familiar, and so it was swiftly added to a list of notes, in the pocket-book lying beside him on the couch. He thumbed to the next page. Some kind of sylkie or mer-creature. Nah, definitely not one of them, he decided. 

"CHRISTOPHER!" At that, the young man did look up, chewing his pen as he did so – a clear indication of a guilty conscience, as far as he was concerned. Yup. Leo was pissed. Or as pissed as a pacifist could be, at least.

"Put that book away and get down here THIS INSTANT! I'm serious, Chris – if you're not down here in one minute, I am binding your orbing powers!"

Chris winced once more. He knew better than to ignore his father when he used that tone of voice, let alone that volume. Disentangling himself from the couch cushions, Chris got to his feet and placed the Book of Shadows back on its habitual stand. Slipping the note-book into his jeans pocket, Chris glanced about the room for the pen-lid. Hastily, he started to rummage through the couch cushions. Failing that, he slid to his hands and knees and leant down to peer under the couch.

"Stupid pen lid," he muttered to himself, crossly, "I swear, if you get my powers bound…" Chris trailed off, letting his imagination of the many ways he would vanquish his pen lid, fuel his search in finding the damned thing.

Lokus had wandered out of the town. The Bloodhounds would be on his trail and he needed to keep them guessing. Fortunately, one of the few gifts his demon breed possessed, was the infinitely useful trick of taking over another's body. 'Like switching cars', he thought to himself with a self-satisfied smirk. The hot-dog vendor hadn't stood a chance. Not when all Lokus had to do was to stare the man straight in the eye and silently repeat the incantation. Like taking candy from a baby. Of course, Lokus considered, glancing at his reflection in a passing car window, image had always been important to him and this middle-aged, rotund, freckle-faced vendor was most definitely NOT his idea of travelling in style.

However, beggars can't be choosers. It wouldn't fool the Hounds for long, but the more he switched, the harder it would be for them. He was just about to turn away from his inadequate reflection and continue down the street when suddenly, he stopped. The little hairs on the back of his hand were standing up. His skin was prickling. Lokus knew what that meant: power. There were witches near by and what did witches mean? A book of shadows: spells. Just what he could use, right about now.

Slowly, purposefully, Lokus turned around from the car window and gazed straight ahead of him. There, looming upwards, stood a tall, red-faced, oddly-shaped house. He inhaled, deeply and once more, the tingling sensation coursed through his host's body. 

At the very top window, a figure moved, pushing the curtain aside to look at the lone figure on the street below. Lokus stared up at the boy who, in turn, barely afforded him a glance. Almost without conscious thought, a plan began to formulate in the demon's mind. "Ah, yes," he muttered to no-one in particular. "Yes - this is going to be MUCH more lucrative…"

Chapter 3 on its way as we speak…

teal-lover – glad you liked the chapter (and that none of my typos were too obvious!). Thanks for reading and I hope you like chapter 2!

Calen ( http/ )

Heh, Chris should go take out a demon clan by himself as a protest:)

You know? He might just have to do that! Just not right now – he's a little…tied up at the moment :) But you're right – a guy like Chris can only take parental smothering for so long before he snaps! Thanks for reading!

unsigned ()

geesh chris can be such a brat lol – yeah! I think he can be at times, but that's the joy of being the younger sibling: you earn the right to be a brat at times and I think Chris has most definitely earned it! Besides, it will give Piper and Leo good practice for when Wyatt gets a little older… Hope you like chapter 2

PrueTrudeau – Thanks! I hope you liked this little bit more :)

The Halliwell's little Angel ( http/ )

yaay! you published it finally! i really like this fanfiction! update it as soon as you can! – yeah! Finally! I got impatient waiting for it to be all finished first. Thanks for your support, though :) I'll reply to your email, too – I haven't forgotten…just got sidetracked! Glad to see an update from you, too! Thanks for the review. 


	3. Chapter 3

Under My Skin Chapter 3 Standard Disclaimer applies – don't own any of them…

Thanks for reading and hope this part is ok… Thank-you to everyone who has reviewed so far! They do so inspire the writing mood (which I'm hoping will kick in this weekend!). So pretty please, if you're reading this, drop me a quick line to let me know what you think? Thank-you!

Inside the manor, the young man cried out, triumphantly. "Ah-ha! Got it!" He held the pen lid up in the air, despite no-one being around to share in his victory. "Now," he muttered, "to appease the family." Chris spun on his heel, aiming to head for the attic door, and that's when it happened.

His foot knocked something hard, on the floor beside the couch. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, loudly, as the coffee mug, plus contents, went flying across the floor.

"Oh…crap, crap, crap…" he swore, quietly to himself as he knelt down to retrieve the mug and looked around for something to mop the mess up with. What was that spell Paige always used? 

His mind drew a frustrating blank. Chris snatched up a nearby box of tissues and pulled out a wad, bunching them up and pressing them into the puddle on the floor. As he replaced the box by the window, however, Chris just happened to glance down. That same, slightly creepy guy from just before was still down there, staring up at the manor. 

Instinctively, Chris' suspicions were raised. Nobody who paid THAT much attention to the Halliwell manor, was EVER good news. He was either a demon, or a warlock, or a snooping reporter… He needed some form of vanquishing, in any event, Chris decided… though perhaps the latter would require a somewhat less…deadly remedy, he conceded.

The glass in the window was a little unclear. Chris rubbed his sleeve against it and peered through again. "Damn," he muttered. Still needed a better look at the man. Very carefully, Chris opened the window and stared directly at the stranger below.

What happened next, Chris barely had time to comprehend. 

As if in slow motion, the man before him shuddered and lurched forwards, eyes going momentarily wide with fright as though someone had shoved him from behind. It wasn't the fright in his eyes that concerned Chris, however: it was the strange mist which emitted out of the man's eyes – a mist which very quickly grew into a swirling green mass, hovering over the sidewalk for just a moment, unnoticed by any and all passers-by. 

The man himself had slumped to the ground, apparently uninjured, yet completely unaware of his surroundings. It was all Chris could do, at that moment, to watch the scene unfold. From somewhere inside his mind, a voice was screaming its protest at him – urging him to move, to mutter a protective spell – to close the damned window, if nothing else! 

But he did none of those things. Instead, Chris watched, helplessly, as the swirling mist reformed into a focused shape and tore through the air, hurtling itself towards him. When the mist hit him, full-on in the eyes, Chris let out a strangled scream. God! It burned fiercely through his retinas! Uselessly, Chris covered his eyes with his hands, finally able to move his body. 

With desperate, pain-filled motions, his fingers tore at his eyes, digging, trying to rip the invader right out of his skull. Chris knew he should call for help: call before it was too late. Once, twice, he tried to open his mouth to call for his father, only to find that his voice was frozen in this throat.

The young man was on his knees now on the attic floor, head grasped tightly in his hands, fighting the nauseating pain. 'I can't give in!' Chris thought, weakly, 'I have to fight this – to tell them all…'

However, as he was thinking these words, Chris noticed something new. The pain was slowly ebbing its way out of his mind. But into it, flowed another presence entirely and, try as he might, Chris found himself being pushed further and further to the back of his own mind

With a satisfied sigh, Lokus stood Chris up and stretched out his new body. He flexed his muscles; took a moment to regard his hands, rotate his shoulders. It was just as he thought: the boy was in good shape. If he had to do a lot running, Lokus was sure his new host could handle the strain. He was strong, too! Lokus' battle of wills over the young man had been draining! Even now, he could feel the undeniable presence of his host in the back of his mind. The meddlesome boy was beginning to push his way back in already.

"No matter," he muttered to himself. "The first thing I'll find in this Book of Shadows is how to rid myself of you completely." He glanced about the room: obviously the attic and where they practised most of their magic, judging by the scrying tools and the altars and other paraphernalia. 

The Book lay on a wooden stand. Chris approached, feeling a tingling in his fingertips as the anticipation of the imminent solution to his problems, built ever higher. As his fingers inched closer to the book, however, he reeled back in shock, as the book flew off the stand and landed on the floor. Not to be deterred, he tried again to reach it and once more, the book shied away from his touch. Inside his head, Lokus was certain he could hear the young man sniggering at him.

"Toots?" At the sound of the intrusion, Chris spun around, sharply. The grin had spread across his face before he could think twice about it. There was something undeniably hot about the gorgeous, perky red-head who had just entered the room. 

Lokus steadfastly ignored the opposing feeling of repulsion that his new host flung up, in response to the demon's lusty thoughts. 'Damn,' Lokus thought to himself, 'my luck is definitely on the up! Even if this does turn out to be my last day on this planet, I can't think of better company to be in.' Surreptitiously, he checked out his reflection in the window. His current host was young, handsome and most definitely in her league. Presuming she wasn't his sister, or something…

"Chris?" The woman was getting impatient. Lokus had the distinct feeling that patience wasn't one of her virtues. She had been standing, hands on her hips, in the threshold of the door, but now she crossed the room to stand opposite her nephew. There was something a little…frazzled about his demeanour, she considered. 

"Didn't you hear your father calling? He's going through the roof down there – come on. The Book will still be here in an hour." Saying that, Paige glanced down at the Book, lying on its side on the floor. She shook her head and, since Chris was making no move to pick it up, Paige marched over and replaced it on its stand, muttering all the way, under her breath. 

Languidly, Chris' eyes swept the room until their gaze fell upon the book. 

"Yeah, the Book of Shadows." He glanced up at her and gave, what he hoped, was a charming smile. "See, I'm not quite…done with it yet. I just need a few more minutes."

"Chris! You don't have a few more minutes. Leo is currently saying things that an Elder is never allowed to say, so why don't you…" At that moment, Paige seemed to notice the mess surrounding them. "Whoa – what happened here?"

Chris leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, noticing the mess for the first time, himself. He shrugged, nonchalantly, irritation beginning to show through: Playing nice was starting to wear thin.  
"Accident," he snapped. "What does it look like?"

Paige blinked, twice, puzzled by the abrupt change in her nephew's mood. 'Who am I kidding?' she realised. 'This is Chris we're talking about – he wrote the book the on mood-swings.' Still, she could live without the snippy tone from him. Knowing exactly what her nephew could be like when he wasn't getting his own way (Leo had already filled her in on the disastrous discovery of Piper's LIST, of which Paige had strongly advised against in the first place!), Paige was determined not to get affronted by his gruffness. 

"Clearly. Well, it's not like this attic hasn't seen worse than a spilt cup of coffee but you'd still better clean it up before your mother sees it." She glanced down at the soggy paper tissues, balled up on the floor by the couch. "Hardly the most effective way," Paige remarked.

"Let the object of objection become but a dream As I cause the seen to be unseen."

Instantly, the mug mended itself and the spilt contents vanished. Chris raised an appreciative eyebrow: just how many witches were there in this house, Lokus wondered, intrigued. 

"Right then!" Paige returned to the business at hand. "Piper's casserole: cold, congealing, yaddi-yaddi-yadda…" 

Briskly, she took her nephew by the elbow and gently began to steer him from the room as though he had forgotten where the door was. From inside his host, Lokus was forced to re-evaluate his current situation. The boy might have tempting access to power, but it was of little use to him if he was constrained by the meddling influences of – he could barely spit out the word- family! He'd not had to deal with the likes of them for nigh on a century. However, he considered, until he had a better handle on his new host's life and, hopefully, his abundant powers, the best solution was to play his new role out. 

Now, he thought, the Blessed Book of Shadows. If he was going to find a way out of his predicament, the first thing to do was to look up the Hounds of Vengeance. Witches always had a knack for gleaning information on all things magical that just seemed to pass demons by. However, as he made to turn back to the Book, Chris could almost feel the antiquated object edging away from his presence. He recalled his previous attempts to turn the pages. Another failed attempt would surely arouse the witch's suspicions. 

Chris' lips transformed into a sheepish grin. "Uh? I know I'm supposed to get going now but there really is just ONE more thing that I need to check the Book of Shadows for." His tone was cajoling, wheedling and he only hoped it was the kind of tone that 'family' responded to. He turned himself around until he was facing her, blocking her exit. "Please?" he all but begged. It was with some relief that he saw hesitation pass over the woman's previously resolute features. 

"Chris, I don't…"

"Look – you can even check it out for me! That way it'll be succinct, without any distractions. Plus, I'm kind of covered in coffee here- can't exactly touch the book like this, can I?" He grinned at her again and, rather awkwardly, nudged her arm in a playful manner. Paige reigned in a slight frown. Again, something about the young man before her, just seemed a little…off. 

However, once more she shrugged away her concerns. Though she loved him dearly, Chris was nothing if not a skilled manipulator and Paige held few doubts that, when he wanted to, charm and levity were two tools that he could wield to his advantage. 

A smile tugged the corner of her lips and she shook her head, ruefully. "You know, I can't help thinking that in future years, I'm going to look like a great accessory, wrapped around your little finger like this."

Chris laughed, a little half-heartedly: not sharing the little private joke, it was the safest response he could think of. He watched in growing satisfaction as she wagged a finger, in mock severity at him as she walked back to the book and flipped it open to the first page. "Now don't go getting used to this!" she warned. 

Instinctively, Chris shook his head, for all intents and purposes, the picture of happy compliance. He moved to stand by her, hovering just out of range of the Book's radar but near enough to read the valuable content of the pages. 

"So, what am I looking for?" Paige enquired.

Chris took the most hesitant of breaths, before answering: "The Hounds of Vengeance. Sometimes called the Blood Hounds." Paige's brow creased, slightly.

"Never heard of them," she remarked, nevertheless beginning to flip through the pages. "You think they have something to do with Wyatt?" 

Again, Chris could only shrug. "Maybe," he replied.

A moment or two of flipping pages and Paige suddenly cried out. "Ah ha! Got 'em." Eagerly, Chris leaned forwards, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as he could. Beside him, Paige began to read: "The Hounds of Vengeance – mythical, indestructible beings of vengeance, called upon by a deceased spirit to right past wrongs…"

"Any word on a vanquishing potion?" Chris couldn't help but interrupt, impatiently. Paige didn't seem to notice the urgency in his voice, however. She scanned to the bottom of the page. 

"Nope," she replied. "None. But I'm guessing the word 'indestructible' written in big red letters at the top there, is giving us a clue."

"Well then, how are we meant to destroy them! What good are witches if we can't destroy evil!" Chris turned away from her, sharply and stared out of the attic window, arms folded across his chest as he attempted to get his frustration under control. It wouldn't do to tip her off, now.

Paige carefully closed the book, resting her hands on its cover. "Well," she began, thoughtfully, "I don't know if we're MEANT to, Chris. Not everything in the Book of Shadows needs vanquishing and the Hounds aren't exactly EVIL per se. I mean, it would depend on how they're being used, I guess." 

When he turned back around to face her, Paige was glad to see a small smile on Chris' lips. "You're right," he apologised, weakly. "I'm sorry I snapped just now. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just…" Lokus struggled to find a plausible excuse. "I'm just kinda tired, I guess." It was apparently, the right move.

Paige shot him a concerned look and rubbed his arm, comfortingly. "We know that, Sweetie. That's why we just want you to rest for a little while. You can't carry the world on your shoulders. You have to let US help, once in a while, you know?"

Before Chris could answer, however, a ringing sound, accompanying a shower of blue lights, filled the attic.

"Uh oh…" he heard the woman beside him mutter. 

When the blue lights faded, there stood a man, late twenties to early thirties, sandy blonde hair, with a face like thunder. 

A/N:

Ok – I know, stupid place to end it, but Chapter 4 is already underway. Thanks for reading, if you got this far and pretty please…that little review button is just a mouse-click away!

terra fea – thanks! I love writing Leo/Chris conversations, so I'm glad you think I have their characters right. I promise there'll be much more of it to come.

Queequeg1110 – Glad you liked it – hopefully it will pick up pace soon! I'm afraid my stories drag a little but I'll try to move things along more quickly!

midnite-magic ( http/ )

oh! I lovelovelove this story! i'm hitting "favorites" right now! I love your little "list" such an appropriate thing i could easily imagine Piper doing – he, he, - yes, that's our Piper! Never sure who to feel more sorry for sometimes – her or Chris! Thank-you for your review! I hope you liked chapter 3 :)

Good Witch – Thanks! I'll update as often as I can :)

The Halliwell's little Angel – thanks for the review and the support! Hope you enjoyed this part as much as I'm lovin' your new fic!

Whisper17 ( http/ )

Liking it! Keep it coming! ;) – I'll certainly try to:) Thanks for reviewing.

Anne – I'm really glad you like it – thank-you for taking the time to review and I hope you liked this chappie:) 


	4. Chapter 4

Under my Skin

Chapter 4

Disclaimer applies – I don't own any of them!

THANK-YOU SO much for the lovely reviews – they really helped motivate me to keep on writing when my week couldn't get any worse! I hope you all enjoy chapter 4 and PLEASE drop me a line if you'd like to!

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The man immediately rounded on his host, backing him up towards the window.

"What happened, Chris?" the newcomer demanded. "Didn't you hear me calling? Or is your hearing going now at your ripe old age!" Leo stood before him, waiting expectantly and obviously in need of an answer to his clearly rhetorical question.

Forced into playing catch-up, Chris replayed the last few minutes of his arrival, in his head. Almost instantly, the woman's earlier words came to mind: his father, or rather, Chris' father, had apparently been calling him. But wait a moment! Chris' eyes widened a moment as he took in (what could only be) Leo's appearance. Inside Chris, Lokus' confusion at this whole family was growing rapidly. There was no way this 'Leo' character was old enough to be Chris' father!

But, old enough or not, the guy was sure acting like it and…come to think of it, Lokus recalled that people who appeared around witches in showers of blue light, had something… funny going on about them.

Whitelighters! That was it! In which case, Lokus considered, this 'Leo' could be older than he was, for all he knew.

"Well? Chris?"

Hedging his bets, Chris answered the irate individual, currently fuming before him. "Uh…Dad?" He paused, fractionally. Leo gave no outward sign of surprise at the familial title and so, encouraged, Chris carried on. "I was just on my way."

Leo watched as his son seemed to lean back slightly, appraising him rather oddly for a moment, almost as if he were seeing him for the first time. Suddenly, Chris remarked, the presence of a sneer evident in his tone:

"You know, you really should learn to be more patient. Isn't that one of your Whitelighter mottos or something? It's right up there with 'Be Prepared' and 'Do a Good Turn Every Day', isn't it?"

Beside him, Chris heard the woman mutter, quietly, "Hoo boy…", bury her face in her hand and take a measured side-step away from him, as if distancing herself from an imminent attack.

Leo's face then underwent what could only be described as a…_transformation_.

In several stages, his expression altered from resolute, to mildly puzzled, to incredulous, to momentarily confused before finally settling into absolute, indignant outrage.

If Lokus hadn't been sure before, he was now: inside his head, his host was most definitely laughing. Was he…cheering him on? No, he decided. Couldn't be. Still, it had never really happened to him before. Of course, he considered, none of his other hosts had been as powerful as this one – this was the first time one of them actually made their presence known to him. It was interesting…it would certainly help him learn how to act around these strangers.

"_You_…_you_…!" Leo began to sputter, eyes blazing, red-faced. "THAT'S IT, Chris!" Chris widened his eyes slightly at the outburst, faintly amused by it. In front of him, the Whitelighter continued, propelled further by his son's amused reaction:

"I don't know what the hell's the matter with you, but I am binding your orbing power for the rest of the day!"

"Leo," Paige began, in an obviously soothing tone. "Isn't that a little extreme? I mean, what if he needs it?"

"Tough," Leo shot back, through gritted teeth. Then he amended, slightly. "I mean, of course if it's an emergency, Paige…" He trailed off, still too annoyed to engage in conversation. It seemed to satisfy Paige however, and Chris was very glad to finally have a name to call her by.

"Now," his father continued, taking a firm grasp of his son's upper arm, "we are going downstairs to eat and I don't want to hear another word of complaint! Understood?" He gave Chris' arm the smallest of shakes, for emphasis. He found he was faintly pleased and…alarmed, when Chris made no attempt to pull away from him.

Instead, his son merely rolled his eyes, attempting to disguise the gesture by turning his head away. However, Leo had caught it nonetheless.

There was something that just wasn't adding up though, and Leo mulled it over in his head, trying to make sense of his nagging feeling. He might not know his son well (certainly not the way Piper did), but since discovering Chris' true identity, Leo's paternal instincts had been steadily developing.

For starters, under normal circumstances, Leo was _sure_ that Chris would have come downstairs after that last time he had called him – the boy valued his orbing powers too much and he would have known that his father's tone meant business, regardless of the somewhat shaky relationship the two of them shared.

Secondly, Chris was stubborn, provoking, argumentative, sarcastic and demanding but never without a reason. He wasn't rude, or snippy – not the real Chris - the one who had been forced to hide himself for all those months in order to preserve his cover. Piper didn't raise that kind of boy, of that, Leo was certain. There was no real reason for Chris to have behaved this way – he must have known that he could return to the Book after dinner? An hour lost was not the end of the world, even to someone as neurotic as Chris.

And why didn't he pull away from him? On any given day, Chris was reluctant to be physically close to his father and if he was, then HE wanted to be the one to initiate contact, not Leo. The only circumstances under which Leo knew Chris WOULDN'T have pulled away from him, was if Chris was actually feeling subdued, suitably chastised. And it WAS plausible that this might be the case.

But the roll of his eyes, and the cocky stance he still held, was enough to convince Leo, that his son was feeling none of those things. In which case, Chris would almost certainly have shrugged out of his grip by now. So what was he waiting for?

Apparently, Chris was wondering the same thing. He raised his eyebrow at their delay. "I'm sorry," he interrupted Leo's thoughts, "but none of us are getting any younger, here."

"Chris!" Paige admonished, growing more and more uneasy about that nagging feeling she had been having. It was obvious that her nephew and ex-brother-in-law were in for a rough night if they carried on this way. She checked her watch.

'When is Piper coming home, again?' Paige wondered, desperately willing the hands on her watch to speed up. Those two needed a mediator! Well, Phoebe was downstairs – she was the best one to fill in until Piper could get home and sort her boys out!

Leo took a deep breath: blowing his top at Chris was not going to solve anything. He'd let Piper do that when she got home. It was her turn to yell at him, anyway.

At that moment, before Leo could respond, a fourth person entered the attic and all three heads turned to face her. As soon as Phoebe entered the room, she could feel the tension, even without her empathic abilities.

The body language spoke volumes: Paige was standing a little way apart from Leo and Chris, turned towards them, one hand on her hip, the other covering her eyes, as if trying to ward off an encroaching headache. She did not look happy, more…exhausted.

Leo had a firm and not so friendly grasp on Chris' left arm and appeared as though he were about to lead him towards the door. Or knock him on his ass. Judging from the hard jaw line and grim expression on the Elder's face, Phoebe wasn't sure which was more applicable

Lastly, Chris was…_wrong_. Phoebe shuddered. Nothing else could describe her nephew – he was utterly wrong. He didn't fit.

'No', she told herself, firmly. 'They've had an argument, that's all. Everyone's nerves are frazzled and Chris is just feeling angry. That's it: angry and jumpy. My God – that boy is jumpy tonight!'

"Uh, hello? Guys? When no-body came back downstairs, I got a little curious. Thought maybe there was some very quiet demon attack going on, or something!" The light joke was nervously delivered and fell on a dead audience. She hadn't really expected much more, given the dark mood permeating the attic.

Phoebe walked in a couple of steps, plastering a smile on her face. 'Come on guys', she thought, 'you know the saying, 'Pass it on' and all that!'

The arrival of Phoebe seemed to jerk Leo out of his haze. Abruptly, he released his hold on Chris' arm. As he stared for a moment into his son's face, though, something else caught his attention.

Like Paige, Chris' face was turned to Phoebe, but there was something, almost leering about his expression. His eyes seemed to be trailing over the mid-rift, currently showing under Phoebe's top. 'Or am I just imagining that?' Leo wondered, hoping like hell that that was the case. Still…

As it turned out, Leo wasn't the only one who had noticed the nephew checking out the aunt.

Phoebe's skin was positively crawling. She could sense EXACTLY where his eyes were going and where his mind was following. She moved closer to him and felt the excitement building in her nephew. Alarm claxons sounded loudly in her head. Paige didn't seem to have noticed what she and Leo had, it seemed.

"We're coming," she assured her sister. "Just a little, misunderstanding, right guys?"

Chris inclined his head towards Paige. "Right," he assured her, smoothly. He took a step closer to Phoebe. "Nothing to worry about," he added, with a smile. Phoebe let out a low chuckle and folded her arms across her chest as she straightened up. Taking a step back from him, she gave him a small, sad smile.

"Chris?" she asked him, simply, casually, without any malice: "Who am I?"

Paige froze – despite her earlier misgivings, the question had taken her by surprise. Leo's heart rate quickened as he realised what Phoebe must be thinking. Part of him wanted her to be right, to prove that he wasn't just imagining things. And the other part of him, the fatherly part that wanted nothing more than to simply be facing a belligerent, but otherwise perfectly fine, son, dreaded the response.

Chris stopped smiling. For one moment, it was over. It was all over. These were a family of witches and of whitelighters. They'd find a way to dislodge him from his new host and from what he'd recently heard, his own powers had just been bound. They were of little use to him.

However, after a moment's pause, Chris quickly thought again. Over-reacting might cut this venture off prematurely. Lokus had survived as a low-level demon, primarily due to his devious nature. If he had turned tail and run at the first sign of set-back over the years, he never would have lasted as long as he had. Stalling for time, for any clue, he could garnish from the room around him, Chris laughed in surprise. Play it as a game, his mind was telling him.

"Who are you?" he repeated, incredulously, laughter dancing in his eyes. It was so close to the response their Chris would have given, that Paige began to relax again. Leo, however, kept a close watch on him.

Phoebe's reply was still calm and casual as she let a hint of humour enter her own voice. "Yes," she confirmed, allowing a smile to form on her face. He was getting angry. He might not look it, but she could tell. He was angry and scared.

Suddenly, he couldn't look her in the eye any more, nor any of them. Chris let out a rather mirthless laugh and turned his back on them to face the window. The hot-dog vendor was still sitting in a daze on the damned sidewalk. He wished like hell that he would get up and wander off down the street, like they all did, merely puzzled by how he came to be so far from where he last remembered.

Chris was just about to turn back to his family, another attempt at stalling, fresh on his lips, when he suddenly stopped. And just about burst out laughing. The Gods were definitely on his side that day! Driving past the window, was a large truck and on that truck was a brightly coloured advertisement and contained in that advertisement was a huge picture of the woman behind him, the name of a newspaper 'The Bay Mirror', emblazoned underneath it and the slogan 'ASK PHOEBE' plastered next to her photo.

His eyes lit up. He smiled. And then he turned around.

Leo had seen it all.

With an air of smugness, Chris directed his gaze at Phoebe, grinned and replied: "_Phoebe_."

If Phoebe was taken aback (which she was, a little) she didn't show it. There had always been the possibility that she had been wrong. Still, that didn't necessarily mean…

Beside her, she felt Paige breathe a sigh of relief. Paige opened her mouth to express how glad she was that this silly nonsense was all over but was abruptly cut off by Leo, now acting, in her opinion, as bizarrely as Chris was!

Without warning, Leo had reached out a hand and soundly cuffed the boy round the back of the head.

"Ow! Hey!" Chris spun to face him, sharply, bringing a hand up to rub his head while glaring daggers at the man. "What the hell was that for?" He demanded, angrily. Leo's expression was stony, but he didn't look like he was about to vanquish him, so that was a good sign.

Without missing a beat, Leo stared his son in the face and replied, evenly: "Don't call your mother by her name, Chris."

He only prayed that Paige and Phoebe realised his plan. Thankfully, given the mildest of reactions from the two women, it appeared that they did. They stood back, saying and doing nothing, yet each one held her breath in anticipation.

Chris pretended to scowl for a moment longer, desperate for time. Inside, his mind was reeling! His mother? How? She would have been about six years old when she gave birth to him! Then again, he considered, Leo was a whitelighter – maybe she was, too? Hell, maybe it was a hitherto unknown…wiccan thing? Who knew? He was kind of getting used to this screwed up family, anyway.

He wiped the scowl off his face and turned his expression contrite. He gave his father one last look before glancing over at Phoebe and muttering:

"Sorry, Mom."

Before him, Phoebe's eyes twitched but aside from that she simply nodded once. Paige had inhaled sharply but thankfully, no-one had noticed. Both witches looked to Leo for how he wanted to proceed. This was his son they were dealing with and besides, from the expression on the Elder's face, it seemed as though he had a plan.

Leo's eyes flickered over to the two women for just a moment, but the message was clear: _wait for it and follow my lead_.

He reverted his attention back to Chris, taking him by the shoulders and turning the boy until they were facing each other. "I expect you to show your mother the proper respect, Chris!" Leo insisted, firmly, still holding Chris by shoulders. Chris nodded, apparently abashed at the lecture. Leo continued. "Now are we _crystal _clear?"

As Chris mumbled a: "Yes Dad," Phoebe and Paige didn't miss the pointed look Leo shot them as he had spoken that last line. Almost imperceptively, they nodded their own heads as Paige very calmly and quietly, left the attic.

"Well!" Phoebe remarked briefly, all smiles again. "I'll go reheat dinner. I'll give you boys a shout when it's all ready." This time, it was Leo who didn't miss the meaning behind her words.

"Thanks, Honey," he said, gratefully. She left the attic after giving a quick smile to Chris, leaving father and son alone. Chris shot a sideways look at Leo. His father's scowl seemed to remain in place, at least, as far as his eyes went. Inwardly, Chris shrugged. Leo just seemed like a very difficult man to please. It wasn't as if he didn't have more important things to be worrying about than trying to please some kid's anal-retentive father.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Leo asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Inside, however, his mind was racing, his thoughts screaming through his head: _Get the hell out my son! I swear, when we dislodge you, you are going to regret the day you ever set foot in this manor, for the rest of your demonic life! Which should be about as long as it takes for his real mother to get home…."_

Still keeping a careful distance from Leo, Chris' answer was as vague as he could make it. "I'm getting there."

Leo merely humphed in reply. Demon or not inside Chris, the fatherly temptation to read him the riot act, was still bubbling beneath the surface, however inappropriate it was at that moment.

"O.K. you guys!" They heard Phoebe's voice resounding up the stairs and through the open doorway. "Everything's ready. Come on down."

Something inside Leo shifted, nervously: this was it – if anything went wrong, what would that mean for his son? Good God! Piper only left the kid with him for twenty-four hours! How was he supposed to explain this one to her?

Leo closed the gap between them and placed a firm, guiding hand between his son's shoulder-blades as he walked them out of the attic. It was not exactly a comforting touch and Leo didn't care if whatever the hell was inside his son, could sense that or not. He didn't want to tip their hand too early, but this didn't necessarily mean that they were on to his little ruse: even as a parent, Leo still had every right to be pissed with the boy.

Chris decided to remain silent. The less he said, under the circumstances, the better.

They reached the bottom of the main staircase and Leo immediately left his son's side and moved over to the dining room table. Before Chris could follow, however, Paige called out to him:

"Chris? Could you grab the glasses from the sideboard for us, while I grab the wine from the fridge?"

Chris glanced over at the oak-panelled cabinet that she had indicated, sitting along the side wall, near the conservatory doors. '_Play the part'_, he reminded himself. He gave a small shrug. "Sure, Paige."

He set off for the sideboard. However, as soon as he had crossed the room and had reached the open floor space, near to the window he heard the woman, Paige, suddenly call out: "Crystals!" At once, a circle of large, crystal stones surrounded him, the magical force-field, violently repelling him as he made to move past the barrier.

"What the hell?" Chris exclaimed, angrily. His four companions now stood in a semi-circle around him, arms folded meaningfully across their chests, their expressions ablaze with anger. 'Is it over?' Lokus thought, 'I'm starting to get a feel for this kid – maybe I can still wing this one? Play it dumb, just keep pretending…'

"What's going on?" he asked again, appealing to the stony audience before him.

"Paige, get the Book." Leo instructed.

She nodded. "Book of Shadows!" Immediately, the magical heirloom orbed down into her waiting hands.

"Mom?" Chris asked, turning to Phoebe and putting on a confused smile. "Mom? What's happening? Is it a joke, or something? Did I do something wrong?"

Phoebe shook her head, regretfully. "I'm sorry, Chris," she admitted, quietly. "We don't have a choice. I'm sure _you_ understand."

"Phoebe," Leo said to her. "We need one of those bottles from the kitchen. Can you go grab one?"

"Sure, Leo," she answered, walking away from them and leaving an increasingly panicked young man behind her.

"Wait! Mom!" Chris called out, desperately as she walked away. "MOM!"

"What? What's the emergency? And where the hell is every body?" As Piper strode into view, baby Wyatt tucked against her side, she stopped short at the sight in front of her. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. What in God's name, was her child doing, in a crystal cage? And why did her sister currently have the Book of Shadows in her hand? And why was her OTHER sister coming back into the room, from the kitchen, with one of Paige's all-purpose vanquishing potions?

And how long had she been away, any way?

"Uh?" she began, questioningly, shooting Leo a look which made him rather nervous. "Leo? Why is our son currently inside a crystal cage?" He opened his mouth to answer her, his eyes telling all she needed to know before he even spoke. "And Leo?" she cut in, quickly, "please make it a very good excuse."

As Chris heard these words from her mouth, every attempt at pretence was dropped. The hurt confusion vanished and was replaced with a contemptuous anger. So they'd tricked him in that attic? Figures. He gave a mocking laugh:

"Witches!" he spat, furiously. A cold smile, turned his mouth upwards unpleasantly, sending a slight chill down Paige's and Phoebe's spines. Languidly, he cast an appraising eye at Piper, much the same way one would examine the remains of something they had dragged in on the soles of their shoes. "_Mother_, I presume?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and not the usual 'Chris' kind, either.

Piper hefted Wyatt on her hip. "Oh, Leo! Don't tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Piper," he began, his eyes sending out a further apology. Piper threw the hand which wasn't currently holding her son, up in the air in sheer bewildered frustration. She didn't look so much angry as exasperated.

"ONE fricken day, Leo!"

He winced. "I know! It just…happened."

"Save it!" she snapped. "And YOU!" Her attention was now focused on her imprisoned 'son'. The fury was beginning to seep in. "BIG mistake, buddy – you have NO idea, believe me! I am going to get you out of my son and when I do, the sweet torments of hell will seem like a welcome relief by the time I'm through with your sorry demon ass! Presuming you have one. Cos I can vanquish you, regardless."

"Witch – you don't know the half of it!" Chris laughed, though it was clear that even he didn't find the joke funny.

"What do you mean?" Leo asked, sharply. Chris folded his arms and glowered at them, darkly. His words were laced with a twisted pleasure.

"You won't get me out of your son. And by the end of the day, you won't have a son to remove me from. The ONLY chance, he has for survival, is if you let me go."

"Like THAT'S going to happen!" Phoebe shot back. Beside her, Paige was furiously flipping through the Book.

Ignoring Chris for the moment, Piper deposited Wyatt in his playpen and walked over to stand by Paige's shoulder. "Paige," she asked, urgently. "Anything on dispossessing…whatever IT is?" Paige shook her head slowly, her eyes still not leaving the book.

"Well, whatever we're going to do," Leo interjected, "we need to do it quickly. I don't like time-limits given on the life-expectancy of one of my sons!"

Paige suddenly stopped flipping the pages. Whatever she had been looking for, the others surmised, she had just found. For a few, tense seconds, her eyes travelled the familiar entry. Piper and Leo's alarm grew as they saw the young witch's expression darken and her eyes widen.

"Guys? We may have a slightly…bigger problem here."

Leo raised his eyebrows, questioningly, dreading any answer she might give. "Bigger?" he repeated. "How?"

She took a deep breath. "Have any of you ever heard of The Hounds of Vengeance?"

From inside the crystal cage, Chris began to laugh. "Bingo!" he muttered. His freedom had just been all but guaranteed. Once his host's family put two and two together, that was.

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That's it for chapter 4! Chapter 5 should be on its way soon. I really hope you liked this part. Sorry it took a little long to get out. I'm a very slow writer, unfortunately!

Icantthinkoafnick – thank-you for all your reviews and for all the advice before posting! I'm glad you're liking where it's going! Will email soon xx

arm Marie ( http/ )

'Chris' is about to have his ass handed to him by Leo, isn't he. – That would seem a safe assumption, now!  Thanks for reading!

vaguely amused ()

moremoremoremoremore. hee! also-face like thunder. awesome phrase. except that at this point, brian krause would never pass for late twenties, but whatever

– yeah, I thought about that when I was writing, but it's always that question of what to do when they're supposed to be ageless? Do you write what their characters should be like, or age them according to the poor actors? I think writing for Highlander has that same problem as well! But I'm glad you liked the chapter and thanks for reviewing!

terra fea () –thanks for the review –it made me chuckle! I figured that not every demon would know who the Charmed Ones are by sight, especially the more low-level ones who don't live in America and who like to stick to the shadows a lot. Plus, it worked better for my story, that way 

pitaC89 – yes, Leo (unobservant as he is!) can figure it out! Thanks for reviewing – hope you enjoyed this chapter!

connor ()

ok 3 more chapters needed come on – well, not exactly 3 chapters here, but at least it's a start! grin . Thanks for reading and I'll try to get the other chapters out as quickly as I can.

The Halliwell's little Angel- carrying on! Glad you still like it! Right – off to review your little gem of Broken Wings! Love the update x

teal-lover – I'm really glad you've been enjoying it – thanks for the review! There wasn't exactly much of a confrontation in this part, I'm afraid, but there's still plenty of time for that to happen!

Calen – thanks for the review! 'Is this going to go anywhere good?' Where Chris is involved? Probably not, no! But that's the joy of fan-fiction! Hope you liked this part.


	5. Chapter 5

Under my Skin – Chapter 5

Standard Disclaimer applies – I own nothing.

A/N – This isn't much of an offering and I'll be very surprised if anyone out there still remembers this story, but I thought I should post something to show that I haven't abandoned this story, I just kind of …lost my muse! But thank-you SO much to anyone who sent reviews! The nagging really does help! Anyway, this isn't much of an offering but I hope it's good for something!

"What the hell are you laughing at!" Piper snapped. She turned her attention back to her sister. "Paige? What about them?"

"Chris…well, at least what I thought was Chris, had me look them up in the Book of Shadows before we found him out. They're mythical beings of destruction, sent out by wronged witches to get justice for their deaths.

It says here that they literally rip their victims limb from limb and I'm guessing that since _he"_, and here she paused and nodded towards her imprisoned nephew, "was so desperate for a vanquishing potion earlier, that probably means these Hounds of Vengeance have been set on his sorry demon ass."

Piper took a deep, calming breath. I am not going to blow it up, I am not going to blow it up, she repeated firmly to herself. "Alright then," she started, slowly, "let's find that vanquishing potion or find a way to call them off."

"You can't," came a smug, self-satisfied voice from behind them. Leo, Piper, Phoebe and Paige all turned their attention back to the cage's occupant.

"And you're happy about this because…?" Piper demanded, incredulously. "For a guy who's about to be ripped limb from limb, you sure are cocky!"

"There is no way to call them off," Lokus continued as if the interruption had never happened. "And there is no vanquishing potion, so I've discovered. That's what makes them so damned good at their jobs, Sweet Cheeks."

Piper bristled, her cheek twitching. Lokus didn't seem to notice, however. "Which means, if you pretty little ladies can keep up, that your precious Chris is going to be the one ripped into tiny little bite-sized pieces. In about, whoo, let's see…" he paused to scrutinise the watch on his wrist, "twenty hours –give or take."

Leo moved to stand next to Piper, who had automatically raised her hands in anger, ready to impulsively blow someone very dear to her, to kingdom come. Putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, whilst throwing the darkest of looks towards his son's invader, Leo spoke in soft tones to his ex-wife. "Easy, Piper. We just need to find a way to dislodge him from Chris, just like we always intended to. We need to work a little faster now, that's all."

"Leo," Piper ground out, through gritted teeth, "I want him out.of.my.son – now!"

"We will, honey," he assured her, quietly.

"BEFORE they rip my baby into pieces."

"Long before that, honey! After all, we've got twenty hours…"

Piper shot up a hand to stop him in his tracks: "OK! Reminder of time-limit, NOT helping! Paige, Phoebe, check the book for any way to get that…THING out of Chris. I'm going to the attic for some supplies and Leo, keep an eye on our sons and God help me, Leo, if they're even an _inch_ further from the last place I left them, when I get back down…"

"Okaay, Piper!" Phoebe cried, taking her older sister by the hands and leading her to the staircase. "I think we all know what we have to do, so what do you say we get right to it! That's it! Take nice slow breaths, _good_ angry mommy…."

She gently but firmly pushed her sister up a couple of steps, watching her just long enough to ensure Piper was actually headed upstairs, before she and Paige moved into the kitchen, the Book of Shadows tucked under Paige's arm.

"DAMMIT!" Piper coughed, as she waved plumes of an acrid blue smoke away from her face. Beside her, Leo, Phoebe and Paige had done the same, matching expressions of disappointment and frustration on their faces. Only Chris remained mildly amused at their antics, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the crystal circle.

"You're getting better, if that's any consolation," he called out, condescendingly. "The bang was a little louder that time and you've managed to turn the smoke from a boring grey-black to an enchanting bluey-grey."

"Shut up!" All four voices chorused. Chris said nothing more but his smile spoke volumes.

"He's right, though," Paige admitted quietly to her sisters, moving away from her nephew and back into the, now haphazard kitchen. They followed, still rubbing the stinging sensation of the smoke out of their eyes. "I mean, we've been trying potion after potion for," she checked her watch, "over two hours now and as much as I live for inventing new potions, I'm running out of ideas."

"And I've created, altered, mix and matched and generally cannibalised every spell I can think of," Phoebe added, flopping down, dejectedly onto one of the kitchen stools. "Nothing seems to work."

"Well, we are NOT giving up," Piper declared, firmly. "I refuse to believe that a snippy little lower-level worm like that is too strong for the Charmed Ones and an Elder to dislodge! The solution is here – we just haven't found it yet."

Leo absently rubbed soothing circles across her back. "Of course we'll find the answer, Piper," he assured her in gentle tones, "we always do, but maybe we need to try a different approach?"

Piper swivelled to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's possible the answer isn't in the Book. Maybe we need to be looking else where? Chris uses the Underworld to find contacts to help him out…"

"We are not bringing any more demons into this!" Piper interrupted, fiercely.

"I'd like to second that motion," Phoebe added, raising her hand.

Leo gave a weak smile. He always tried his hardest to remain strong and unflappable for the girls, but the hour was dragging on and he was beginning to wear down. "I'm certainly not suggesting we bring any more demons into the manor," he affirmed. "But we have other resources besides the Book of Shadows. I could see what the Elders say."

"Didn't you ask them once already?" Paige enquired.

"They might have had time to rethink," he reasoned. "Just because they didn't have anything when I first asked them…"

"What about Gideon?" Phoebe wondered. "Or Sigmund? Couldn't they help?"

"Could they?" Piper seconded, her eyes lighting up for a moment. Every minute that passed them by, her fears redoubled and a sickening sensation gripped her gut even tighter until it became painful to breathe.

Leo had seen the look of desperate hope enter his love's eyes. He couldn't bear to put it out. "I'll orb to Magic School now – see what they say."

Piper nodded and squeezed his hand tightly for a moment. "Hurry back." And with that, he disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs.

For a moment, the three sisters sat and watched the space he had just created. Seconds ticked by loudly from the kitchen clock. Abruptly, Paige stood up, scraping her chair back on the floor. The other two looked up at her sharply, in surprise.

"Tea," she said, as if by way of answer to their unspoken question. "I know you guys might not think it appropriate at this moment but we all still need to be awake and alert and able to focus if we're going to help Chris." She could see the logic taking over them. "And I don't know what does it for you guys," she continued, "but for me, it's tea. So who's going to join me?"

Silently, her sisters each raised a tired hand from where they sat around the table. Smiling warmly at them, she set about the task at hand as she pulled three mugs down from the shelf.

It was a little over half an hour later when the jingling sound alerted them to the return of their Elder. Leo orbed into the kitchen where Phoebe and Paige were stock-taking ingredients and scribbling in a notebook while nursing mugs of tea. A third, half empty mug sat on the table, next to their own. They both looked up eagerly, when they saw him and Paige rubbed a little at her tired eyes.

"Leo! Any news?" Phoebe piped up.

"Where's Piper?" he asked, ignoring her question for the moment.

"Checking on Wyatt," Paige filled in. "She'll be back down in a moment."

As if on cue, Piper re-entered the kitchen, saying as she walked: "Well, he's still asleep, thank God. How're we doing…" She cut herself off, abruptly, when she saw who had returned. "Leo," she exclaimed, happily. "What happened? What did they say?"

She hastily moved a bag of mandrake root off of one of the stools so that he could sit down, which he did, gratefully. Leo reached inside his inside coat pocket and retrieved a neatly folded scroll of parchment. Paige immediately recognised it as part of the formal stationary used by Gideon at Magic School. The headmaster's distinctive scrawl was visible through the folds in bold, black ink.

"We're in luck," he declared. "Gideon and Sigmund happened to have quite a collection on books about dislodging possessive demons. When I explained Chris' situation and what personality traits of this demon I could remember, it struck a familiar chord with them. Apparently, the Elders have recently heard about a demon named Lokus who escaped a sentencing court of the Blood Hounds just last night."

"So it's this 'Lokus' inside Chris?" Piper confirmed.

"Gideon thinks so, yes," Leo answered. "and he's come up with a suggestion for a vanquishing potion that will drive Lokus out of Chris' mind." He paused.

"Well!" Piper demanded, impatiently, snatching the paper out of Leo's hand, "Is this it? Let's see what they say!" She opened the paper and immediately began to scan the ingredients, her eyes darting furiously across the page. As she read, her brow began to crease slightly in confusion.

"Uh, Leo? I'm not even sure what half of these ingredients ARE, let alone how to find them! Why do I get the impression that I won't be able to pick these up at the China Town herbalist?"

"That's what I was going to tell you. Most of the items on this list are going to be a little…tricky to come across. But the good news is, that once we've made the potion, we just have to pour it down Chris' throat and it should completely eradicate Lokus without any harm to Chris."

Piper took a calming breath. "Alright then. No sense getting caught up in the details. Leo." She turned to her ex. "Give us a list of the ingredients and your best guess at where to find them."

"I'll get right on it."

"Okay, the rest of us will divide the list between the three of us. One of us stays here for Wyatt and Chris, the other two are on shop-and-carry duty. Let's get moving people! Come on."

"Tell me again how _I_ got the damned dragon egg!"

"Because you could orb to the top of the mountain where its nest was. Not to mention _China_, where the mountain was."

"Oh you just have an answer for everything, don't you Miss Smarty-Pants!"

"Now Paige, just because my ingredients happened to be local, there's no need to be bitter. It still took a lot of bartering and haggling."

She ignored the answering scowl on her sister's face. "Now, when Leo gets back from the volcano with that little sprinkling of ash, I think we're about ready to give this potion a shot." Removing the egg carefully from its bag, Phoebe cracked it open and poured the acrid contents into one of Piper's pans. For Chris' sake, she sure as hell hoped the finished potion tasted a lot better than it smelt. And that the corrosive elements, currently working through the metal of the pan, had faded before their nephew had to drink it.

"A shot?" Piper repeated. "This is my son's life here, Phoebe. Please tell me we have better odds than 'a shot'!"

"That's not that I meant, Sweetie. Of course it'll work. You'll see. Now, let's get brewing. We have a demon to evict and a nephew who's probably getting more and more ticked the longer we leave him."


	6. Chapter 6

Under My Skin – Chapter 6

Standard disclaimer applies

Hope this part satisfies! Thank-you all SO much for your kind reviews – it really helped get this chapter under way! BTW, there were some line breaks in the last chapter between time movements that I hadn't noticed hadn't come out in the final version so I'm sorry if some sequences didn't seem to make sense. I'll hopefully get the format right in this chapter.

'_How long are they going to keep this up, kid?'_

'_How the Hell should I know!'_

'_They're your parents, aren't they? Your family?'_

_Chris idly kicked at the ground, briefly wondering if that would have just given him a headache, given they were now sitting inside his mind, having this rather strange conversation. At any moment, he half expected a White Rabbit and a Mad Hatter to come strolling in to join the two of them._

_They were outside, if such a concept as 'outside' and 'inside' existed in this place. There wasn't exactly a sky, or any air, or trees or anything like that but neither were there walls, or enclosed spaces. It was just…space. White space. With something solid to stand on. But, Chris had decided some time ago, it was more of an 'outside' space than an 'inside' one._

'_You know," Lokus continued mildly, coming to sit next to where Chris had just settled on the ground, 'I'm not bad company once you get to know me. I have a pretty good rep with the ladies. Know my way around this world and the underworld like the back of my hand. You and me, I could show you some good times, kid!'_

'_Oh, you mean like watching myself come on to my aunts? Yeah, that was a treat,' he drawled, sarcastically. _

'_And a great shame,' Lokus admitted. 'But! There's plenty more fish in the sea.'_

'_You're right. Tell you what, why don't you give me back control of my body, just long enough for me to tell my family to stop all their efforts, and that I'd rather go hitchhiking round the world with you? I promise I'll give me right back after I'm done.'_

_Lokus chuckled, shaking his head as he stretched out on his back, fingers laced behind his head, in a cradle. 'I like ya kid! Ya make me laugh!'_

'_Yeah,' he muttered, 'I have that effect on most people. Course, they're usually in the middle of a nervous breakdown and it's quickly followed by hysterical weeping.' _

_They both looked up as a loud crash emanated across the empty space. 'What in the name of Hades is going on in that kitchen?' Lokus demanded._

'_I wouldn't worry about it. Phoebe's probably trying to cook something.'_

'_This happened before then?'_

'_Yeah. The toaster was never the same again.'_

_For a while, the two of them remained where they were, silently contemplating nothing, and everything that implied. Chris sat, cross-legged, Lokus staring blankly at the place where a sky should have been. It was…peaceful._

'_They'll win, you know. They always do.' Chris' soft interjection barely seemed to make a ripple on the stillness surrounding them. _

_Lokus raised an eyebrow. 'You seem confident.'_

'_I am.'_

'_We'll see, kid, we'll see.'_

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"Right. It's ready," Phoebe announced with a triumphant wave of the vial in her hand.

"Phoebe, there's a hole in the bottom of my pan."

The young brunette waved off her older sister's concern. "A minor detail," she assured her. "Now, we're going to have to break the circle to get this into Chris and I've been thinking about that…"

"A minor detail? Phoebe it BURNED A HOLE THROUGH METAL!"

"Oh Piper, relax!" Phoebe encouraged with a big smile, in a manner which Piper found very infuriating. "It only did that until we added Leo's volcanic ash. Once we did that it became totally safe. Now, back to the crystal circle, I was thinking…"

"Leo! Will please tell her that we are not pouring that down my son's throat!"

"Piper," he began, carefully, "I think Phoebe's right. It's not doing anything to the vial. The liquid's safe to drink."

"But it sure as hell stinks!" Paige stated, emphatically, wafting the unwelcome smell away from her face.

"Well then it's a good job you're not the one having to drink it!" Phoebe replied, irritably. "Now I have been trying to say…"

"We know," Piper interrupted, "Circle. Paige, can you orb the crystals away while Leo orbs in and grabs Chris from behind?"

"Sure thing. Just give me a signal when you want to go."

"And Leo, you're sure he can't orb?"

Leo shook his head. "Absolutely. I've taken the power away."

"What about his," and here, Paige dropped her voice to a whisper, "_other _powers?

"I don't think Lokus is aware of them yet," Leo continued. "Unless Chris has let something slip unconsciously, Lokus probably thinks that orbing was Chris' only power and he knows that's been revoked."

"Good. Let's hope it stays that way or we're going to need a Power of Three spell to bind them. Now Phoebe, once Leo has him, you and I are going to get that potion down his throat."

"Piper we can't even give the cat its pill! What chance do we have with Chris?"

"Well look on the bright side: he's not likely to claw us to death for trying, now is he?"

"Or leave little dead mice and birds on the floors by your beds," Paige added.

For a brief moment, no-one said anything until Piper broke the moment with a shudder.

"Okay that image is very disturbing and we are not going to contemplate it. Everyone ready?" They all nodded once. "Alrighty then. Let's do this."

Silently, each family member moved into position. Piper glanced at Paige, nodding once in her direction. With a quick look to Leo, ensuring he was ready, Paige sprung into action.

"Crystals. Table."

Immediately, the ring disappeared and Chris's head shot up, clearly startled. Before he had a chance to react further, a swirl of blue lights materialised behind him. Even before he had taken solid form, Leo had started to reach out for his son's arms. Chris' eyes widened in surprise.

"What the hell?" he started.

"Piper! Phoebe! Now!"

In and instant, the two witches were in front of the now struggling Chris.

His face was red with fury, eyes blazing. "You can't do this!" he sputtered, still kicking and struggling against Leo's hold. "It'll never work! Whatever you've concocted will be useless."

"Then why are you struggling?" Leo asked, smugly. "Just open up and take your medicine like a good little boy."

"Screw you!"

"Now you've been talking to Chris in there, haven't you?" Leo asked, with a smirk.

"And that is no way to talk to your father, young man," Piper remarked, briskly. With one hand she grabbed a hold of Chris' chin, forcing his head round to face her and pushing it backwards slightly. With her other hand, she squeezed at his jaw, prying his mouth open.

"You know what they say, Chris," Phoebe continued, popping the lid off the vial and positioning it over his now opened lips, "if you can't say anything nice…" In one fluid motion, she emptied the contents down her nephew's throat. As soon as the last drop was down, Piper clamped his mouth shut again.

"Don't say anything at all!" Paige finished, in self-satisfied triumph, coming over to join the group.

Chris' chest suddenly bucked forwards, his arms stretching to their limits as Leo reflectively tightened his grip. He collapsed to his knees, gasping in harsh, audible breaths. His eyes blackened over, like tar seeping into water. As the Halliwells looked on, Chris' face turned a deathly white, the veins in his head, for a moment, protruding grotesquely through his ashen skin.

Piper's eyes widened as she watched her son struggle. Tears pricked painfully at her eyes. "Be strong, Piper," she heard Leo whisper. "He can do this. Chris is nothing if not a fighter."

She nodded but only to acknowledge that she had heard him, to reassure that she would not interfere. But in truth, Leo's reassurances had done nothing to ease her turmoil: he just didn't seem to get it. It didn't matter that Chris was a fighter; it didn't matter that he was one of the strongest people she knew; it didn't matter that on a scale of one to ten, even in his short life-time, the ordeal he was going through this minute probably paled in comparison to what his own brother had inflicted on him. He would live, he would pick himself up, pretend anything unpleasant never happened and he would survive.

But none of that mattered to Piper as she stood helplessly, watching her son writhing on the floor: he was her son, her baby boy and THAT was the only thing that truly mattered.

"PIPER!"

The shout snapped her back to her surroundings. Paige and Phoebe were knelt next to Leo on floor next to where her son lay, his body now shaking violently, eyes wide open and unfocused. They each had a firm hold of either an arm and chest or a leg and were busy pushing down with all their strength as the boy unconsciously fought against them. His left leg was still un-restrained.

"Wh…what happened?" Piper asked, looking to Leo, who was cradling his son's head in his lap.

"He's having some kind of seizure. Come grab his other leg, we need to hold him down or he'll hurt himself."

Immediately Piper lowered herself to the floor next to Chris and clamped his leg down as forcefully as she could. The tremors tore through her hand with alarming intensity.

"Hurt himself?" she repeated, incredulously. "Hurt himself? Leo this has gone on too far! The potion obviously hasn't worked – it's backfired. We need to be working on reversing it – NOW!"

"No."

"No? Leo, for God's sake, _look at him_!"

"I am," he replied tersely. "And right now we need to stop him from swallowing his tongue or biting right through it. Paige I need something long enough and narrow enough to fit in his mouth, without blocking his airway but thick enough and strong enough for him to bite into."

Paige thought furiously for a fraction of a second. The solution came to her in a flash. "Belt!" she called out. The leather strap immediately orbed to her and she handed it over to Leo. "Will this work?"

"Should do fine. Thanks, Paige." Still resting Chris' head on his knees, Leo released his hold on the boy long enough to slip the leather between his teeth, pressing the tongue down as he did so. He then resumed his hold on his son's head, smoothing back his tangled hair from his forehead and using his thumb to gently stroke his face. All the while Leo whispered soft, comforting phrases.

"It's okay Chris. We're here; we've got you. Shh. You're going to be just fine. That's it – good boy. Just relax. Shhh – that's right. Come on back to us, Chris."

Gradually, the tremors became less violent, the movements of his arms and legs less jerky. As his father continued to stroke his hair and murmur words of encouragement, Chris' body relaxed completely, finally stilling before his head lulled sideways, eyes closed.

"Leo?" Piper questioned, concern lacing her tone.

Leo quickly held a finger to his neck, checking his pulse. His shoulders relaxed a little. "He's okay," he assured them all. "He's unconscious, but I think he's going to be fine. The potion has done what's it was supposed to do: it's weakened Lokus' hold on Chris. Now it's just up to Chris to find his way back. Which he will do, he only needs a little time and rest."

The sisters all let out the breath they had been holding, only then becoming aware that they still held their death-grip on the young man. Piper reached out and shakily caressed his cheek with thumb and forefinger. Her eyes were bright with the tears of fear and stress. However, her gentle smile was filled with nothing but love. "Hurry back to us, Sweetheart. We're all desperate to hear about the next demon you want to send us after. We can't well do that without you nagging us now, can we?"

"Speak for yourself, sister!" Paige chuckled softly. With a few audible clicks, Paige and Phoebe stood up, straightening the kinks out of their backs with a groan.

"Let's move him on to the couch," Piper suggested. Leo moved to stand behind Chris, knelt down and carefully slid his hands underneath the boy's back and knees, scooping him up and into his arms. He stood slowly and walked to the couch where Phoebe had hurriedly removed her lap-top, and laid his son out across it. Chris never stirred. Leo couldn't resist brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. It was definitely time for a hair cut when the boy recovered, whether he liked it or not, Leo considered. He smiled down at him and lovingly placed a kiss on top of the unruly mop of dark hair. At least there were some advantages to his son being temporarily unconscious. He idly wondered if he could feed him like this too…

The minutes passed and soon turned in to hours. Chris lay on the couch, never stirring as the Halliwells took turns to alternately rest and watch over him. And all the while, a different kind of vigil was taking place before them.

"_They're quiet out there, you know? I think they've forgotten about you, kid. Given up."_

"_They're not quiet. They've hardly stopped talking. My dad's talking to me at the moment but it won't be long before Aunt Phoebe buts in. She can never stay quiet for long." Chris stood to the side of the space, arms folded across his chest, staring intently out over the place where a horizon should have been. There was nothing to see but swirling white mist, but somehow, Chris seemed to be watching something with interest._

"_You're lying! I can't hear anything!"_

"_And you're unbelievably dense for someone who's apparently as old as you say you are, you know that? You can't hear anything because you're not in control any more. You're disappearing. Look."_

_Lokus glanced down. His hands were becoming translucent, his body fading into the white background. "This can't be happening," he muttered. "This never happens." Lokus looked back over at Chris. "It's not the end, you know? You can't get rid of me like this." _

_However, as soon as the words left his mouth, Lokus began to rise upwards, climbing higher and higher towards the limitless opening above them. Chris followed his progress somewhat smugly._

"_I warned you not to doubt them, didn't I?"_

_For the second time in as many minutes, Chris was pleased to see genuine panic cross his opponent's features. Lokus was still in sight, rising ever higher, legs and arms kicking uselessly as if he were attempting to swim in mid-air. "But, but this is WRONG" he shouted down, in desperation._

"_Yeah," Chris muttered, finally getting fed up. "And you know what else? It's taking way too long!" With a flick of his wrist, Chris sent Lokus spiralling up into the abyss before he finally vanished out of sight._

When Chris opened his eyes and sat bolt upright, Phoebe's scream of shock brought the entire household running in.

"Chris?" Piper gasped, rushing to his side and all but shoving her sister off her place on the couch next to him. Immediately, she cupped his face with her hands. "Baby? Is it you? Say something, honey – anything."

"Piper – give him some air and let him breathe and maybe he'll be able to!" Leo pointed out, coming to kneel next to the head of the couch.

"That," Chris started to say, his voice sounding painfully raspy.

"Yes?" Piper questioned, leaning closer.

"That…was disgusting!" Piper blinked in surprise as Chris started coughing. He shot an accusatory look at Phoebe. "What the hell was in that potion? It was gross! The stink still makes me want to gag!"

"Oh no need to thank us, Chris!" Paige interrupted. "You're welcome, I'm sure."

He turned his eyes to her. "Look, I appreciate the effort and all that, guys. Really, I do. But couldn't you have like, added some cinnamon or sugar or something? Like mom used to do with cough medicine?"

"Are you…_you_?" Leo asked him, carefully. In reply, Chris shot him a look in which Leo was beginning to see the affection.

"Well what do you think? And for your information, I am NOT getting my hair cut!"

"We'll see." Piper just smiled down at him, gently pushing him back down until he was leaning back, propped against the cushions and the arm of the couch.

"Okay," Paige remarked. "Questions. What's your full name?" Chris sighed, but resigned himself to his family's interrogation with as much grace as he could muster.

"Christopher Perry Halliwell."

"And how did Wyatt get his middle name?"

"Matthews is your last name so…Mom was feeling nostalgic or something. Probably the hormones."

"Right – ignoring that last slight: What are the names of the children I'm going to have?"

Chris titled his head sideways and narrowed his eyes. "Can't tell you. Future consequences. Even the slightest knowledge of the future could change it in even worse ways…"

"Ugh!" Piper exclaimed, waving him quiet. "I've heard enough!"

"Phoebe?" Leo questioned, quietly. All the while she had been reading him intently.

"Nothing!" she exclaimed happily, a wide grin over her face. "Not a trace of Lokus! It's Chris! My little nephew's back!"

"Your _little _nephew is sitting in his playpen over there, Phoebe." Chris remarked, dryly. He pointed to where Wyatt was innocently staring back at the adults in the room, a soft toy clutched in his grasp.

"Oh nonsense!" Phoebe said in her 'talking-to-baby' voice. "You'll always be my little nephew! _Yes_ you will! _Yes_ you will, you!"

"Dad, help."

Leo chuckled. "Okay, Phoebe. How about we let Chris get some rest now?" That remark was met with a chorus of protests.

"Dad!" Chris whined. "I've been unconscious for hours! I don't want to rest any more."

"And I need lots more hugs from my nephew!" Phoebe protested.

"You need a damned pet, Phoebe!" Chris shot back.

"Excuse me, people! Have we forgotten that this is MY son? If anyone's going to do any hugging of him around here…"

"Alright!" Leo finally managed to raise his voice over the din. All other voices stopped and turned to look questioningly at their resident Elder. "None of this is actually helping someone who has just been through a demonic possession. You DO need to rest, whether you realise it or not Chris, but…" he cut in quickly as he saw Chris open his mouth to protest. "I'll meet you half way: you can stay down here with the TV on, rather than going up to your room to rest, PROVIDED you stay _on the couch_." He didn't wait for a reply because it hadn't really been offered as a choice for the boy.

"And Phoebe, for now you'll just have to hug Wyatt if you want to hug a nephew. When this one's feeling stronger, he's all yours. I promise." Chris' face was the perfect blend of outrage and fear.

"Piper, honey: why don't you go into the kitchen and fix Chris something to eat? He hasn't had anything all day and I think the casserole has well and truly had it by now."

"Aww, Sweetie! Are you hungry?" she cooed. It didn't matter to her that her son shook his head. "What would like mommy to make? Anything you like?"

"But I'm really not…"

"Pancakes? Waffles? That sounds good! I'll fix them both. You wait right here." With that, she planted a loud kiss on his forehead before ruffling his hair and heading in to the kitchen.

"Right then!" Leo stated, happily. "Now that everyone's sorted, we can let Chris get some rest. I have some things I want to check on with Gideon."

"But?" Paige protested. "I didn't get anything. I feel left-out." She pouted.

"But, Paige, you didn't complain about anything." Leo stated, calmly.

"Oh. I guess I'll just…go clear up then, or something."

Phoebe wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Honey. I'll help you. Let's start in the attic. I seem to recall we've left supplies all over the place up there." With a guiding hand, she steeredthem bothup to the attic.

Leo watched them leave, shaking his head slightly. Then he turned to Chris and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be back soon, son. You just take it easy, you hear?" He gave the shoulder a little squeeze. It was ever-so comforting…and ever so _un_-comforting at the same time. Chris grimaced.

"Yeah, I got it, Dad," he replied, dejectedly. He watched Leo orb out. The TV was off at the set. He could have just used his powers to turn it on, but why waste the opportunity to get up while he could. Glancing towards the kitchen to make sure his mother was still occupied, Chris slid his legs over the edge of the couch and stood up. He crossed the floor quietly, pausing momentarily by Wyatt's playpen.

"Hey little guy. Quite a day, huh?" Instantly, Wyatt's blue force-field encircled the toddler, wide,blue eyes staring up in fear.

Chris appraised him rather oddly for a moment before moving away from the child. "Hmm," he remarked. "Now _that's_ interesting."

Right! That's it for now but chapter 7 will be coming as soon as I can. Work has started up again and that always puts a kink in things!


	7. Chapter 7

Under my Skin – Chapter 7

Standard disclaimer applies

Hey all – I am SO sorry that it's taken me so long to get my act in gear. My best friend, Allegra, who also writes fan-fic persuaded me to get together for a 'writing day' when we could both plough on with stories we really should feel ashamed of ourselves for having abandoned for so long! So, the end result is that I managed to get another chapter out and (if you follow any _King Author_ stories, you might find Allegra's posted more of her's as well!). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter – I'm sorry it's not much but I have it all planned – just have to get it all down.

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By the time Piper returned with a tray piled high with various plates of food, Chris was safely tucked up on the couch, legs snugly underneath him, surfing through channels. His eyes glazed over on the screen, barely allowing a channel to settle long enough to determine what it was. If he noticed his mother re-enter the room, Chris gave no sign of it. His brain still felt as if it were acting on auto-pilot, thoughts skimming in and out of the surface of his mind. It was difficult to focus on any one particular thing. Damn it! He most certainly didn't want Leo to be right, but maybe, just maybe, sleeping would be a good idea.

"Having fun?" she enquired, lightly. He glanced up at her, somewhat sheepishly.

"Sorry, couldn't really find anything I liked."

"Why are you apologising?" Piper wondered, settling the tray down on the coffee table in-front of the couch. She perched on the cushions next to her son, who shifted over a little to give her room. He had flipped the television off as she approached. Automatically, Piper's hand went to his forehead, checking for tell-tale signs of warmth.

"I don't have a fever, mom," he pointed out, gently pulling back, away from her assessing touch. Her lips turned up at the corners ever so slightly and Chris couldn't help but grin back. This was the smile of the mother who had doted so completely on both of her sons: the expressions he had committed safely to memory when he had understood he would never experience them in his lifetime again; the expressions he had forced himself to erase, the moment he had first left Bianca at the portal.

"I know," she amended. "But mothers can't help it. And you never answered my question." The young man gave a shrug.

"You always hate it when we do that: pick something and stick with it, you always tell us." She nodded, approvingly.

"And a good philosophy."

"You would say that." Chris finally gave the tray before him, his full attention. "Wow, mom – is there any food left in the kitchen?" He eyed the teetering pile of pancakes with wariness. The jug of maple syrup did not bode well for the lead weight in his stomach, either. Piper leant forwards to retrieve the tray and plonked it firmly in her son's lap. The stack of waffles jumped in response.

"A recovering boy needs his energy. Phoebe and Paige can fend for themselves for an evening." A knife and fork were unceremoniously shoved into his hand. "So wipe that expression off your face and eat, mister!" The warmth and humour in her eyes belied the firmness in her voice. Despite his best intentions, Chris could not help but feel that he had just been handed the rope with which to hang himself. He smiled weakly at his mother as he pulled the mountain of waffles closer to him and took a deep breath. Piper watched, eagle-eyed, until the first mouthful was in, before giving him a pat on the shoulder and rising from the couch. As tempting as it was to ensure the whole plate's worth of food was safely consumed, something told her that scrutinising his eating habits would only achieve the exact opposite.

Chris had barely taken a mouthful when suddenly the indicative sound of jingling bells heralded the return of his father. Eagerly, he placed the eating utensils back on his plate, leaning forward, partly to focus on the news Leo might bring and partly to shield his line of vision from his mother's disapproving frown.

"Dad, what did Gideon say?" He steadfastly kept his eyes trained on the Elder. If Leo noticed the reason for his son's riveted attention, he didn't seem make mention of it. Inside, he was glowing too much at the thought that his son was so transfixed on his every word. Was this the reaction his future self would so dearly miss from his youngest, if he failed to mend his ways in time? With a renewed sense of determination, Leo swore to himself, the other Elders and anyone else who was listening, that Chris' previous future would NOT be a reality.

"He gave me some books on demonic possession and some on the Hounds of Vengeance." Leo hefted the neat stack of leather-bound volumes under his arm and moved to sit on the coffee table. With a sigh, Piper slid the tray off Chris' lap before it fell to the floor, so intent was he on peering across Leo to look at the books. She banged it down, a little more forcefully than necessary, on the side cabinet. Neither man looked up.

Leo continued to speak, scanning the pages as he flipped through them. "If someone like Lokus comes up again, we need to be far better prepared for him." Beside him, Chris idly ran his fingers across the embossed illustration interspersed between the text. Suddenly he looked up, his dark eyes stormy and serious. "You know Dad, I've been thinking about Lokus."

"Chris," Leo half-heartedly admonished. "I told you to rest, not dwell on this. It's over now."

"I know. But there are some things I just can't ignore." At this, Piper put aside her residual feelings of annoyance and came to join him on the couch. Whatever concerned her family concerned her, after all.

"What is it, Chris?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "What's worrying you?" He shot her a hesitant look as if afraid to actually voice his concern, afraid to worry her needlessly. After a short pause, he took a deep breath and pressed on, urged on by the encouraging look from his mother and quizzical expression his father wore.

"When I was unconscious and even when I wasn't, I was able to talk to Lokus."

"You mean his presence," Leo corrected. Chris' expression was thoughtful for a moment before it regained its sense of purpose.

"Maybe. But he had a form, a physical form and I think that's what he normally resides in. I think that when he possess someone, his physical form somehow changes or disappears. When he took me over, it was like something, like smoke, was entering my eyes. But if he has a physical form…"

"Then where is it?" Leo finished for him.

"Could we have vanquished it?" Piper asked. Leo shook his head.

"No – we just expelled him from Chris. His original form should have appeared somewhere."

Chris nodded grimly. "Exactly. And I've been thinking about Wyatt." He glanced over at his older brother, currently chewing on his pacifier. Piper grew momentarily alarmed as her eyes shot to her oldest son.

"What about Wyatt? He's okay, right?"

"Absolutely!" he insisted. "But until we know where Lokus really is, I just think it would be a good idea for Wyatt to go to Magic School. Just until we know it's safe. We could look through these books, read up on Lokus." His earnest eyes met theirs in a further entreaty. "I really think it would be safer – please."

As it turned out, it didn't take much to sway Piper and Leo. Ever alert to the protection of their eldest, Piper wasted no time in her decision. "Chris may have a point, Leo. Maybe it would be safer to take Wyatt 'up there' for a little while. Will they take him in the nursery?"

"Of course," he assured her, already moving towards the playpen. "I've left a bag of some of his supplies up there. I'm sure Miss Flannigan will take him." As he lifted the toddler into his arms Piper joined him at Wyatt's pen. She lovingly smoothed the wispy, fair hair down on his head and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. Chris remained where he was, looking on with relief.

"You hear that, baby?" Piper was murmuring to her young son, "It's only for a little while and then you'll be back with mommy and daddy before you know it." She kissed him one last time. Wyatt merely stared, uncomprehending, gurgling nonsense words.

"I'll stay long enough to get him settled then come right back," He turned back to look at his other son, flipping through the ancient manuscripts on his lap. "And you put those down, Chris and rest. Your mom and your aunts can look through those with exactly the same results. You just lay back."

"But…"

" 'But' nothing. Or perhaps you _do_ need to be resting upstairs?" He tried to keep the smugness out of his next comment when he saw Chris' brow furrow and his lips lock into a frustrated sulk. "Thought so. I'll be back soon." With that, the blue lights engulfed him.

Chris let out the pent-up frustrated sigh that he hadn't quite dared to release in front of his father. His eyes slid shut as he leant back on the couch, his mind still strangely buzzing and his head propped under one of the cushions. No demon-slaying, no demon-research, nothing on the television – just how was he supposed to fill his time? His question was swiftly answered.

"Well then," Piper began, "since you have nothing better to do now…"

Opening one eye, the young man groaned audibly as the tray of food was replaced on his lap, sealing his fate with the flourish of a neatly folded napkin.

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Time had passed. As the sky darkened and shadows lengthened, the Halliwell family had finally begun to settle down. Phoebe sat typing her latest column, Paige had begun mixing up another batch of dispossessing potion from the left-over ingredients they still had and Piper and Leo now sat, resting on the loveseat as he assured her for the tenth time that Wyatt was sleeping peacefully in the nursery of Magic School. As for Chris, the stress of the day and the sheer volume of Piper's food had ensured that he had barely been able to keep his eyes open. It didn't really take his parents' and aunts' promptings to make him trudge slowly up to his room and collapse into bed.

However, sleep, surprisingly had not come so easily. His mind was active, alive and there seemed to be no way of stilling it. Moonlight poured through the open window, bathing the room in pale, iridescent light, giving it an 'other-worldly' quality. To his family, he was sleeping soundly, but Chris himself, had other ideas. Ideas and thoughts: stray thoughts that sometimes came out of no-where and surprised him – thoughts, not entirely…pleasant at times. However, curiosity was a killer to be left unquenched and so it was that, with the aid of a small flashlight, Chris sat with his knees up to his chest and one of Gideon's books on the Blood Hounds, propped open, soaking up the contents. It was just like his parents and the sisters to leave matters unfinished and remain unprepared he thought, irritably – "Damn witches!" he muttered. _Whoa!_ Chris blinked in surprise. _Now where did that come from?_ Shaking his head a little, Chris put it out of mind as his thoughts turned elsewhere.

The ancient lore, myths and legends focused on the few documented cases where there had been enough information to garner onto a page. Not surprisingly, there were no accounts written from those on whom the curse had been invoked. None, either from the invokers themselves. Again, hardly a shock: the majority of witches who called up the Hounds, did so through Council of the Dead, being ghosts themselves. Not many stuck around to write about the experience. A few curses, however, had been invoked by living relatives of the deceased and in those cases, the bereaved had taken great delights in recounting every gory, shocking detail of their vengeance. Indeed, some of the accounts seemed to have been written with the ghoulish glee of a morbid teenager.

Chris read to the bottom of the page and was about to turn it, eager to absorb the information contained on the following page when a strange symbol next to a chunk of text, caught his attention. Though the symbol itself meant nothing to him, merely a concentric swirl of patterns, the positioning, in the top right-hand corner of the paragraph, reminded him of an asterisk. Acting on impulse, the young man began leafing through the pages, eyes scanning for a repetition of that same symbol. It wasn't long before his keen eyes were rewarded. A sound from outside his room, made him instinctively switch off the flashlight for a moment until the sound of the footsteps had safely moved on down the hallway.

'God', he thought to himself, 'It feels like I'm ten years old again and reading after lights out!' The memory brought a small smile to his lips. Wyatt had never told on him and the two of them would sometimes sit late into the night, silently scouring through either the latest comic, magazine or wiccan text that neither one was really meant to have been reading.

He flipped the light back on and resumed his mission. Focusing again on the symbol, Chris found that his suspicions were confirmed: he was on a page of footnotes, different symbols denoting different pages. His was a large paragraph at the bottom of the page. As he read, a tingling rippled through his body. A shadow seemed to pass before his eyes. He shrugged the odd sensation away. The young witch's brow furrowed in concentration, assimilating the new information:

_Note to all witches_ – it is highly theorised that though the Hounds cannot be called off, the ambiguous wording of the curse, atoning for _want and crime_, should allow the Hounds' _criteria_ to be…redirected. No particular crime was specified so, once the Hounds have been set, ANY crime which is committed and COMPLETELY atoned for, over the following twenty-four hours, will _replace_ any preceding crime and render the Hounds mission null and void. They cannot punish a being who has already completed penance for their crime or misdemeanour. A lesser penance may replace a lesser crime than their original sin. This remains speculation – let us ensure it remains that way, lest those who would use this clause to their own nefarious advantage obtain this information and escape just penance.

A curious smile turned the corners of his mouth. In one fluid motion, Chris ripped clean across the page and slipped the parchment into the pocket of his sweatpants. For a moment, he strained his ears to listen for the sounds of his family moving around the house. Paige was preparing to go to bed, Phoebe still rapidly typing away on her column: late as usual. Leo and Piper were still talking quietly downstairs though he couldn't make out the words.

A plan was formulating in his mind. Many strange thoughts were whirling through his mind, filling Chris with a sudden urge, an inkling, a desire for liberation and freedom. 'Yes,' he thought, slipping comfortably into this new mind-frame as easily as slipping on a glove. 'I've been cooped up long enough. It's time to stretch my legs and have a little fun. Maybe Wyatt got a few things right after all.' First shoes, then a jacket over his wrinkled t-shirt and Chris was standing ready by the open window. As he sat on the sill and swung his legs out over the edge, he turned onto his stomach, latched one hand onto the drainpipe, then his feet, then the other hand. In no time at all, he was standing on the Halliwell's front lawn, contemplating the vast opportunities that the expansion of night-time had to offer him.

He lazily stretched his arms over his head, working out some of the kinks in his back. He had, after-all, been lying down for far too long and time, he was acutely aware, was running low. As the lights began, one by one, to switch off around the house behind him, Chris sauntered off down the street, heading towards the town. "Now," the boy remarked aloud as a couple of pedestrians afforded this rather strange boy a sideways glance, "to commit a crime…the possibilities are endless."

A/N:

I'm sorry this is so short. It doesn't make as much sense as it did in my head so I'll understand if people don't really like this chapter, but I had to get some more down on 'paper', so to speak and post some more – it has been too long since the last time.

I'd like to say a huge thank-you to people who have been kind and thoughtful enough to leave a review for the previous chapters! –

_Teal lover_; _Plutobaby 494_; _LongliveChristopher_- your story ROCKS by the way! I'm loving it!; _Streetwise Girl_; _TriGemini_; _vaguely amused_; _Jenn120_; _Embry_; _Sparkling Cherries_; _Terra Fea_; _bhh Charmed fangirl_; _EverlastingInnocence_; _Nina430_; _IcantthinkofaFnick_ – must email you sometime – it's been too long!; _Redemmo _and _Halliwell's Little Angel_ – thanks, Hon! Sorry I've not been in touch recently – will remedy that soon!

You guys are all terrific and it's such a boost to read what you have to say.


	8. Chapter 8

Under my Skin: Chapter 8

Standard disclaimer applies

Author's Note:

OK – so this has been a LONG time coming and I'm really sorry for the wait. I kind of lost the 'Charmed' inspiration but hopefully it's back again now. Just to make a few things clear in this chapter, it's set before Daryl turns his back on the girls and I might have made a few suppositions about Chris' future so please bear with me. Also, Chris is still himself in this chapter – just with this nagging voice influencing him. Thank-you all SO much for your reviews and emails. I really hope this part is ok. I'm not amazingly happy with it but I really wanted to get this story going again. Right! I've babbled enough. Please enjoy :-)

As it turned out, the possibilities were not so much endless as…fruitless. While his family slept soundly in their beds, Chris continued to roam the night. As he walked along the sidewalk, idly kicking stray cans into the road, he mentally ran a list through in his head.

'Let's see,' he thought. 'What the hell can I do that will be all wrapped up and done with in the next,' he glanced at his watch, 'four hours?' In the thirty minutes since he had slipped his jailors, Chris had, in no particular order, tried a variety of misdemeanours – all of them ultimately pointless. He had walked on the 'Stay Off the Grass' grass: no one batted an eye. He had walked out of a café without paying for his meal – like anyone cared or even tried to stop him. He had sworn loudly and vociferously in front the elderly and very young, spat gum out on the sidewalk, overturned trashcans and stood idly by while a dog left its business on the grass. Nothing. Nada. Chris knew he would get a much better response if he just went ahead and mugged someone but the chances of all that being wrapped up within his four-hour limit were pretty slim.

He sighed, loudly in frustration. By now, the young man was standing in the local shopping arcade. The only place open, neon sign still lit and swinging in the wind, was a local liquor store. The Halliwell's eyes lit up. Now there were always possibilities where alcohol was concerned.

He pushed open the door as the corner bell clanged. The attendant behind the desk barely looked up. He was bored, tired and flicking through a magazine. Chris grabbed a six-pack off the shelf, knocking into displays as he made his way up to the front desk. "Got any I.D.?" the man behind the desk mumbled, already scanning the pack through the till, regardless. Chris raised his eyes, hopefully.

"No," he answered, quickly. "But I'm still gonna try and buy em," he finished, triumphantly. "You care?"

For the first time since he had walked in the store, the man looked up from his magazine and regarded his customer closely, flicking a tasteful toothpick that was sticking out from between his teeth. Chris waited, breath baited, ready to start an argument. Presently the attendant shrugged and rang the pack up on the till. "Nah," he remarked. "Five-eighty, dude." At this, Chris finally lost his patience, slamming a hand down on the counter, in disbelief.

"I just don't get it!" he exclaimed, running a frustrated hand though his dark, tousled hair. "What am I supposed to do? What?! You tell me! No-body in this God-forsaken town gives a crap about anything and believe me I have done EVERYTHING. Everything I can think of short of robbing a bank."

The guy stared, blankly up at him. "You gonna pay cash or card?"

"What?" Chris demanded, incredulously. "Hey – you know what, I'm not going to pay! How about that, huh? Would that actually bother the most complacent town in America?"

The man shrugged. "Dude, there's like cops right outside. Go ahead and walk out if you want."

"There're cops? Really?" Chris glanced around him, eagerly.

"Well there's a patrol car outside – they can't be far away." The boy squinted through the glass window. Sure enough there it stood, parked up outside. Perfect.

"Yeah, they must be getting donuts or something." Chris muttered. Abruptly, he smiled, grabbed the six-pack and turned for the door. "OK man. Thanks and all. See you later." The guy raised a querulous eyebrow. "You reckon?"

"I'm counting on it!" Sauntering out of the shop, swinging the beer as he went, Chris made his way over to the car. Grinning, he took out his house key and set to work on the shiny, black doors of the car.

Two minutes later, Chris was convinced that if the picture wasn't explicit enough, then his boldly scrawled message was certainly doing the trick:

COPS SUCK AS…

He was halfway way through the last word when he heard the startled explanation from behind him, followed by an angry: "Hey kid! What the hell?! Hey Morris! Hey, we got a fricken joker here! All right, punk!" he yelled as he grabbed the back of Chris' jacket and hauled him to his feet, turning him around to face him. "What's your game, huh?" It was a middle-aged beat cop, slightly bulging around the middle and over his belt. Chris grinned at him. "Nice night for a walk, officer," he offered. "Though from the looks of you, you do a bit too much driving."

"Why you…" he sputtered.

"Chris?!" The officer and the boy both turned to look at the newcomer. Chris looked vaguely surprised. No-where near as surprised, however as Daryl. "Chris?" he asked again, incredulously, inspecting the car's door as he stalked over to them. "What the hell is going on here?" He grabbed the young man by the arm and pulled him out of his partner's grip. He kept his hold, however.

"Daryl, you know this kid?" Daryl glanced over at his companion.

"Yeah, Barry. I uh, me and Sheila are old friends of his parents. Chris, do they know what the hell you're up to?" He gave the boy a hard shake. "And what exactly are you doing?" he hissed. Chris looked un-phased – cocky.

"Taking in some air. Having a drink. Thirsty?" He offered him one of the beers.

"Hey!" came a cry from the door to the store. "He didn't pay for those, Officers." All three turned to look at the attendant, leaning lazily in the doorframe. Barry rolled his eyes. This was obviously one of those nights. "OK, kid," he drawled. "Let's get in the car – you're coming with us."

"No, Barry, man please. I'll take care of this." Chris' eyes widened in panic. No! Damn it! Beside him, Daryl had stepped in closer to his partner. "Please. Chris is a good kid. I don't know what's gotten in to him but let me take him home. He could be sick for all we know. His folks are good people – they'll sort him out, I promise." His eyes implored for understanding. With one last glare at the punk kid, Barry sighed, gruffly. He had kids about this age. Didn't mean he had to like it, but he trusted Morris' judgement. "Fine!" he agreed, somewhat reluctantly. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief and nodded his thanks.

"But!" Chris sputtered, "what about the beer?" He was rewarded with the darkest of glares from Daryl, who still held a vice-like grip on his arm. "You'd think you had the common sense to shut up, Chris!" Shoving his other hand into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and retrieved a ten. He handed it to Barry and shook his head, saying, "Here – give this to the guy and tell him I'm taking the kid in, will you?" Barry took the bill and, with one final glare at an indignant Chris, he walked over to deal with the matter at hand.

"But Daryl…"

"Can it, kid! I am so not in the mood. I was ten minutes off finishing my shift when you come along." As he talked he manhandled the boy into the car and set off, tyres squealing. "I just hope Leo kicks your ass for you!" he continued as Chris seethed in the seat next to him, contemplating his next move, silently. Going home was not meant to be an option. "Can't I just…you know, cool off in jail for a couple of hours?" he begged. "I'm sure that would teach me a lesson – really."

Daryl snorted as he pulled the car into Chris' street. "Nice try, Chris but I think your family are going to be worse than a nice, comfy cell. Besides, I couldn't do that to Piper and Leo. They've got enough to deal with, Chris and they don't need you adding to their worries. I would think you'd have realised that, of all people." Chris folded his arms across his chest and glowered at the older man. "And wipe that scowl off your face." Instead, he just turned his face away from Daryl and continued to glare out of the window.

"You were never this lame in the future."

"Oh, so now you're willing to talk about it? What happened to changing the future in even worse ways?"

"Yeah, well it sucks!" Chris retorted, angrily, "kind of like you! You know, you used to be a pretty cool God-Father, too." Daryl raised an eyebrow, half amused.

"So sorry to disappoint. We're here." He pulled up outside the manor and shut off the engine. He turned to look at his companion. "Want my advice? Look contrite, presentable and genuine. Then kiss up like you've never done before for the indefinite future." As he got out of the car, he walked round to Chris' door, opened it and helped his young friend out of the car, as it seemed Chris was having some trouble doing that under his own steam. "Hey, Daryl?" he asked as he climbed out. He didn't wait for the older man to reply. "What kind of crime has an instant penalty?"

"What?" Daryl demanded. "Chris, it's late, I'm pissed off and you are on very thin ice. Now get up that driveway before my boot helps your backside along a little." He gave him a guiding shove, propelling the boy forwards, in front of him. "I'm serious," Chris pressed. "I mean, like what? Littering, breaking windows?"

"Oh boy," Daryl muttered to himself. "Sooner we get that door open and I can get you off my hands…"

Rapping firmly on the door, the detective kept a firm hold on Chris and stepped back, hoping like hell that someone was in and they weren't all out trawling the Underworld on some hunting mission. "You know you don't have to knock, Daryl. I do have a front door key, you know."

"Don't remind me! It's probably bent out of shape after you used it to redecorate my car."

A few moments later and he heard shuffling and mild cursing coming from the other side of the door before the bolts shifted and the door opened, revealing a rather sleepy looking Phoebe. She blinked up at Daryl in surprise and then suspiciously at her nephew.

"Hey Phoebe," Daryl started, apologetically. "Sorry to intrude. Is, uh, is Leo here? Or Piper?" As she took in his greeting, she moved aside, indicating for both of them to come in. Daryl pushed Chris in first and then followed as Phoebe shut and bolted the door again behind them.

"Um, they're both asleep, Daryl. It's kind of the middle of the night, you know?" She was still looking curiously at Chris and was about to question him when Daryl continued. "Could you wake them up, please? It's important."

She cast another look at Chris, who looked away from her, refusing to say anything. 'And why did I think this night would be over,' she thought, ruefully as she made her way upstairs and to her sister's room.

By the time she returned, along with a very anxious Piper and Leo, Chris had stretched out languidly on the couch. Daryl had remained standing. As soon as he saw them come down, he moved forward to speak with them.

"Chris?" Piper questioned, immediately moving to sit beside him and placing her hand on his forehead. "Honey? What's going on? Are you ok?" He shrugged out and away from her touch, arms folded across his chest. "I'm fine!" he muttered.

"Piper, Leo I'm sorry about this."

"Daryl, what's going on?" Leo questioned. Daryl ran a tired hand over his face.

"Look, man I'm not sure what's going on, but I've just come from the arcade where I had to take Chris in."

"Take him in?" Leo exclaimed. "For what?"

"Vandalising my car for one." Piper's eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "And some rather, unsavoury comments to my partner. Oh, and walking off with a six-pack without paying for it but don't worry, I covered it with the owner."

"Like he could have cared," Chris muttered from the couch. Daryl shot him a look.

"Anyway," he continued, "It's all ok. I figured something is probably wrong if the kid is acting like this. We're not pressing any charges. Just promise me that you and Piper can deal with this. I gotta tell you, he's coming out with some pretty weird things. I've never seen him like this."

Piper ran a worried hand along her son's arm. She turned to face Daryl. "He's been through a lot tonight, Daryl. We are SO sorry he's caused all this trouble. We should have been keeping a closer eye on him."

Daryl seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "So there IS something wacky going on here then? I mean, this isn't just the kid on a bad day?"

"Ooh, I don't know about that," Phoebe said under her breath, ignored by all. Piper nodded, vehemently. "Absolutely! I promise, this won't happen again, Daryl. We'll pay for any damage – just send us the bill." Daryl waved a dismissive hand.

"Look, if it's demonic and all, we'll let the department pay for it. Just keep a lead on Chris."

"Hey! I'm not a damned dog, you know!" Chris shot.

"Quiet!" Leo snapped. "Think very carefully about your next words, son." Then he faced his friend and offered his hand, which Daryl shook, tiredly. "We won't let him out of our sight."

"I know. That's good. I swear, the way he was tonight, he could get himself in real trouble, maybe even hurt, if he goes out like that again. It may not be me he runs in to." Leo nodded, grimly before opening the door for his friend.

When Daryl was safely gone, Phoebe, noting the current mood, casually made her way upstairs. "I'm going to try and get another few minutes of sleep, guys before the big, bad work calls tomorrow." She gave a short wave before disappearing up the stairs. Leo didn't really notice as he sat down on the footrest opposite Chris and Piper.

"Well?" he demanded. "Just what do you have to say for yourself, Chris?"

"Leo," Piper admonished, gently. "It's not his fault. He's probably sick or still recovering from tonight. You know what he went through." She ran a gentle hand over his face. "My poor baby," she murmured, "I should have been taking better care of you." Again, Chris jerked away from her touch.

"Piper! He snuck out, committed a crime and has been nothing but unpleasant since he came home. I'm not so inclined to just let this one slide." Piper placed her hands on her hips. "Well what would you suggest, Leo? He's obviously traumatised." Chris gave him an infuriating smirk, missed by his mother.

"How about a clip round the…"

"Leo!"

"Fine! Molly-coddle him, but for his own safety, he's not leaving this house again." She pursed her lips. "That's fine with me, he's too ill to be going anywhere anyway."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"No!" they both shot back. He rolled his eyes and looked away. Piper stood and moved into the kitchen. With a warning look at Chris to stay put and batting his feet off the table as he went, Leo joined her. Piper leaned in and spoke quietly. "I'm going to ask Phoebe to enchant the house to stop him leaving." Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Trust issues?"

"No! More like, he could do something unintentionally in his state. Anyway, I'll be back down in a moment." With that, she made her way upstairs to where her younger sister had barely gone to bed.

Next up: Chris' little secret is out…


End file.
